


the world's a little blurry (or maybe it's my eyes)

by larajeancovey



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: Allie centric, Angst, Eating Disorders, F/M, Post-Season/Series 01, References to Depression, References to Drugs, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-05-31 12:54:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19426405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larajeancovey/pseuds/larajeancovey
Summary: Of all the things she’d expected herself to be doing on the eve of the end of her life, having sex with Harry Bingham against the wall of Luke’s wine cellar was certainly not one of them.





	1. for all we know we might not get tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first ever fanfic, but I love this show and this ship so much I had to write for it. This is my way of making up for that finale lol. 
> 
> Btw, the tags say underage because Allie was around 16 in season 1 while Harry was 17/18. My story takes place about a year later, when Allie is 17 and Harry is 18/19. Most of the other tags don't apply to the first chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie's trial comes to a close.

Her dad had been a lawyer. 

He’d worked as a public defender right out of law school, then got hired by a private firm when he met her mom and things like marriage and kids came into the equation, but they’d never had any bring-your-daughter-to-work days. She’d only ever heard about trials during dinner conversation, or sometimes when her dad had to take phone calls while they were on vacation. 

He’d used words like ‘acquittal’ and ‘plea deals’ and ‘affidavits.’ On the surface level, she knew what they meant. She’d never really considered them, though, back then. Her focus was journalism, not law. It’s not like she’d ever have any use for them. 

Tonight, however, she finds herself racking her brain for something – for anything – that she remembers. She curses herself for sleeping during government in tenth grade, for never asking her father any questions about his job, for skipping career day at school just because Will said ‘fuck it’ and ditched and she’d been too in love to do anything but follow him. 

Back then, those choices had meant nothing. Today, they stand between her and death. 

Since the fifth day of her imprisonment, when Helena walked in and plopped down across from her, telling her she was to be her lawyer, she’s been wondering if they’ll implement the death penalty. They – or she, Allie thinks with a fresh wave of nausea – had executed Dewey, but that had been for murder. Eye for an eye, or what you will. 

She’s on trial for election tampering. In comparison to murder, it seems almost harmless. But still, she remembers that glint in the eyes of the mob on the day she was arrested, that almost murderous spark, that hunger. They wanted her head on a stick. It didn’t matter if she’d killed anyone. They wanted to see her fry. 

Weirdly enough, it doesn’t even scare her that much. Death. The end of being. Instead, thinking about it, she feels almost...light. Like someone was lifting a huge weight of her shoulders. 

She wonders if that should be concerning. 

Wondering is pretty much all Allie’s been able to do for the last month, sitting on the floor of this cramped cellar, her legs all but numb from crouching in the same position for too long. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the perpetual darkness. She feels weak and sickly, probably from a Vitamin D deficiency. Of course, that’s to be expected when she hasn’t seen the sun in over a month. 

The only human contact she has these days is with the member of The Guard whose been ordered to bring her meals. It’s usually Luke at lunch time – always looking down, always rushing – and either Clark or Jason at dinner. None of them make conversation, and she typically keeps her face turned away, towards the wall. She tries out her voice sometimes just for fun – it comes out hoarse and dry, like she’s been smoking a pack of cigarettes a day for the last ten years when in fact she’d only ever tried the one before throwing it onto the ground (lit and all) and proclaiming to Will that they were disgusting. 

She thinks she hit rock bottom and just kept falling. 

Oh, Cassandra, she thinks, suddenly, tipping her head back up the ceiling, how could you let this happen? 

Why did you leave me? 

Where are you now? 

While she was sleeping, someone dropped off clothes for the trial. 

New clothes come once every three days, always during the early hours of the morning, left a few feet away from her. The first time, they hadn’t bothered untying her first. Consequently, she’d been in the very awkward position of trying to lift her shirt over head while both of her wrists were bound together when Luke walked down the stairs, glimpsing only her bra and the top of her blonde hair over the edge of the shirt. 

He’d been embarrassed enough to convince Lexie and Harry that as long as they kept the cellar sealed tight, there was really no need to tie her up anymore. 

She’d thanked him for it the next day, when he brought her breakfast. As usual, her words went ignored. 

The clothes they’ve brought for her today is, like everything else they’ve given her, from her closet at home. Someone had had the good sense not to bring the dress that she’d worn to Cassandra’s funeral (if they had, she would have really lost it), instead sending her the outfit she’d worn to her family’s Christmas party last year. 

The formerly tight green sweater is loose around her stomach, and she has to roll the black skirt twice to keep it from slipping down her hips. She’s lost weight, no doubt, in the last year. They’re not starving her down here, but she definitely isn’t anywhere close to comfortable. Most nights, she falls asleep with a hollow feeling in her stomach. 

She wonders who’s in charge of that – Lexie or Harry or Campbell. Probably Campbell. He gets off on little sadistic things like that. 

The pantyhose they’ve added to go underneath the skirt isn’t hers. She recognizes it easily – the run going down the right leg, the small hole at the left toe – as Cassandra’s. She stills the moment she does, turning it over in her hand, before setting it down almost preciously on the ground. She’d rather have her legs bare in the January chill than wear something that still smells of her dead sister’s perfume – the reminder is just too painful. 

Shakily, she shoves her feet into the black heeled boots and zips them up. Almost immediately, like he was lurking outside listening for her to be done, the door to the cellar flies open and Luke walks down. He’s looking away from her, as usual, but today she barely notices. She allows him to grab her elbow and pull her up the stairs. She’s unsteady on her feet, lurching slightly on the top step, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. 

Judging from the way his grip tightens ever so slightly, he does. 

Luke leads her over to where a group has already gathered. She follows unwillingly, stumbling over her own feet. She spots Will easily, looking murderous in a khaki and shirt combo that clearly doesn’t fit him well, standing next to Lexie. The girl looks like she’s aged about five years in the span of a month, dark circles shadowing her eyes and her face appearing pale and drawn. 

Next to her are Harry and Campbell, the latter smiling cheerfully while the dark-haired boy who’d once been Cassandra’s fiercest rival just looks around the room blankly. He’s cut his hair again, though, and shaved, so she guesses he’s probably doing okay. 

No, she doesn’t think Harry Bingham has lost a minute of sleep over keeping her locked up for the last month and a half. 

“Hey, cuz,” Campbell grins lazily at her over Lexie’s head, his earring glinting in the light. She remembers when he’d first gotten it, how her Aunt Emma had been equal parts horrified and furious over the phone when she’d told her mother. She’s always hated it – it makes him seem like he’s trying too hard. “Looking good.” 

It’s a lie and they both know it. She hasn’t seen a mirror in the last forty-six days. 

“Let’s just get this over with.” Taking advantage of Luke’s momentary relaxation, she steps out of his grip and begins walking in the direction of the church. 

Towards what she knows is probably a death sentence. 

She won’t bother going into the details of the trial. They don’t matter, anyway. She knows what the verdict is going to be the moment she steps into the courtroom. 

She spends three days sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair, her knees locked together so tightly it almost hurts where they rub against each other and her hands gripping the table in front of her so tightly her knuckles go permanently white. 

Will sits to her left, looking around the room with steely eyes. His gaze softens only on Kelly, and Allie has to look away when that happens. She’s on the hook for the death penalty here – she can’t be thinking about the fact that her boyfriend is only with her because another girl had told him no. 

(No matter how much it burns her inside). 

He’d tried to take her hand, on the way here. She’d pulled it away at the last second, pretending like she had to push her hair out of her eyes. She doesn’t know why she’s pushing him away. Maybe it’s because she knows what’s to come, because she wants to prepare him for the reality hurtling their way. 

Twice, she meets Harry Bingham’s gaze. 

Once is by accident – they’re in the middle of Luke’s testimony and she’s tired of staring at the line of sweat that drips down his neck as he stammers over how power-hungry and dominating Allie is – and the other not. The first time, he looks away the second their gazes meet, dropping his eyes back to where he’s wringing his fingers restlessly. 

The second time is right before they adjourn before the verdict is supposed to come in. For some reason, she looks at him when Helena announces the recess. She doesn’t know what she expects to see there – glee at her situation, relief that lunchtime has finally rolled around? 

Instead, she finds an emotion she can’t explain staring back at her in his dark brown orbs. 

She guesses the closest thing she could call it is sadness. 

She’s guilty. 

Will isn’t. 

“Fuck no.” 

Gordie slams his fist down onto the table, an uncharacteristically hard expression on his face. They’re sitting around a table in the courtroom, everyone dismissed with the exception of her, Lexie, Harry, Campbell, Grizz, and Gordie. 

It’s time to discuss her fate. 

“Allie made the decision to execute Dewey when he was convicted. Hell, she pulled the goddamn trigger herself. Why should this be any different?” Lexie says the words flippantly, but the way her eyes dart around the room tell Allie she’s anything but sure of herself. 

“Dewey was found guilty of murder.” Gordie practically spits out the word. “Allie was found guilty of election tampering. Which everyone here knows is bullshit, isn’t it, Lexie?” 

The girl looks taken aback, clearly unused to anger from the typically mild-mannered and soft-spoken Gordie, but Grizz cuts her off before she can respond. 

“If we execute Allie, we’re setting the precedent that every crime committed in New Ham is a capital offense. We just can’t do that. Eventually, there’d be no one left standing.” Grizz looks around the table solemnly. “We need to think of another solution.” 

“What about banishment?” Surprisingly, it’s Campbell who speaks up. 

Everyone looks at him expectantly. Allie doesn’t bother lifting up her head. 

“We just found new land that we can farm on. Why don’t we send Allie there? Banish her from New Ham but keep her around so she can work on the land and help replenish our food supply.” His eyes glitter as they come to rest on her, “She’d never be allowed back in town. No one would be permitted to contact her. Others sent to work on the farm would be assigned a job separate from hers. She’d be entirely on her own.” 

That’s worse than death, she thinks. Completely on her own, with no one to talk to. Cut off from the few friends she has left, from her home, from Cassandra’s grave, where she still goes on her most desperate of nights. 

She would go out of her mind. 

But no one has any better ideas. 

Slowly, she sees Lexie start to nod along. Gordie looks pained, Grizz holds up a hand. 

“Wait. I think maybe complete solitude is a little too harsh. What if she had a medical emergency or something?” 

“I can go visit her. Once every couple of months, for a checkup. And, she’d be allowed to come back to town for special occasions. Christmas, Thanksgiving.” Gordie’s voice is soft, defeated, but his eyes look to Campbell with wild hope. 

He’s not going to agree, Allie thinks, watching her cousin. The boy she’d once had and agreed to let go, because he was family. Clearly, he doesn’t share the same sentiment about her. 

“Okay,” it’s Lexie who speaks up, missing the furious look Campbell shoots her way. “Okay, we’ll do it.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything at all. 

But he does. Later that night, standing in the dusty wine cellar she’s called home for over a month, his face illuminated by the light peeking out from under the door upstairs. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” She glowers at him the moment he walks in, coming to a standstill right in front of her, his hands shoved into his pockets. He looks good, she notices before she gets angry at herself for noticing, better than he has any right to when she’s been rotting in a basement for the last month because of him. 

“You leave tomorrow morning. Grizz and Gordie are escorting you. Campbell and the Guard are coming as well. They wanted me to tell you.” 

“Okay, you’ve told me.” She crosses her arms, facing the wall again, “You can go now.” 

He hesitates. She hears him scuff his shoe along the floor. “Are you...are you okay?” 

She laughs, the sound harsh and grating. “I just got sentenced to being alone for the rest of my life. Does it seem like I’m fucking okay?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and there’s something like desperation in his voice. He’s looking at her so soft, his eyes like two pools of melted chocolate and his cheeks reddened from the cold. “I’m sorry that there’s nothing I can do.” 

“Are you sorry that you did this to me?” Her voice shakes. She won’t let herself thaw, not even with the way his eyes seem to plead with her to forgive him. “Do you even care, Harry?” 

His eyes flash, the unexpected tenderness disappearing as anger settles in. “Did you care, when you threw me out of your house after I came to apologize and didn’t check in on me for the next six months? You’ve justified everything you’ve done, every wrong choice you’ve ever made, by saying you were just trying to take care of the people. Clearly, that was a lie.” 

“I was angry! I’d just found out you were responsible for the death of my sister, my best friend. And excuse me, but I was a little busy trying to run a town for those six months. I’m so sorry you weren’t my number one priority, Harry – that spot belonged to trying to keep 250 teenagers from killing each other or destroying the town!” 

They’re both gasping, their harsh, quick breaths mingling in the space between them. She sees his gaze dip down to her lips, briefly, then back to her face. She doesn’t think about it – reaching up, she threads her fingers through his hair, bringing his mouth to hers. 

It's not like their first kiss – their bodies have already known each other once and evidently, they remember. He responds quickly, placing one hand on her waist and using the other to grip her hair so tightly it almost hurts. His tongue slips inside her mouth as her hands travel to the buttons of his coat, undoing them quickly and then shrugging it from his shoulders. 

He chokes out something like a laugh at her impatience but proves he’s just as eager when he reaches for the hem of her sweater and pulls it over her head. She’s wearing a simple black bra – she doesn’t exactly have the luxury of picking out her own underwear these days – but Harry’s gaze holds nothing but appreciation as he bends his head to begin pressing kisses along her neck. 

She sighs, burying her fingers in his hair and arching backwards. 

His free hand unhooks her bra, letting it fall onto the cellar floor, joining the ranks of the dust bunnies that linger there. She actually shudders when his cool hand comes to rest of her right breast, lightly flicking across her nipple. 

Before, he’d clearly been pretending she was someone else. She doesn’t even think he’d noticed that it was her first time. 

It doesn’t feel like that now. 

He bites down gently on her collarbone, sucking so hard it’ll leave a mark. She reaches for the buttons of his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders and pressing kisses to the bare skin. He has that clean boy smell that she likes – soap and aftershave and something distinctly metallic. 

His hand slips across her bare stomach, his thumb flicking her hipbone. She nods against his pulse point. 

Carefully, he slides his fingers under the waistband of her skirt, bypassing her underwear. His fingers are on her, in her. She gasps, almost stumbling at the sensation. He holds her steady with his free hand, the other slipping in and out with a rhythm that makes her almost forget her own name. 

She unzips his trousers. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing, but watches with wide eyes as she reaches down, pulls down his pants and boxers in one go. She slides her palm around him, strokes him gently. He lets out a strained groan. This part, she’s done before. To him, and to the boy she’d started dating in tenth grade after Will confessed to having a huge crush on Kelly Aldrich, who, coincidentally, was dating the boy whose fingers are inside of her right now. 

God, what a fucked-up web they’ve weaved.

Harry’s thumb brushes a singular spot as his index and middle fingers pump in and out, setting off what feels like a small explosion inside her body. She slumps against him afterwards, her hand slackening on him. He holds her steady with one arm, and for a moment, they just look at each other. 

He’s beautiful, she thinks bitterly. God, she hates how his dark fair falls messily into his face, and how his lashes are long enough to brush his cheeks every time he blinks and how his skin is perfect, not a single blemish marring his tanned skin. 

He leans forward, their foreheads touching. He’s between her legs. It’s the most intimate position she’s ever been in. “You’re beautiful,” he breathes, and then kisses her again. 

Gently, he maneuvers her so her back is against the wall. He’s lifting her up, locking her legs around his waist. He hooks her ankles together. 

There’s a dull pain as he edges inside, not as sharp as the first time but still there. She winces for a moment, her eyes slipping shut as she breathes harshly. He doesn’t move, not until her eyes snap open and she nods, her fingers brushing his jaw. 

The ache lessens as he begins to move, eventually giving away to something that makes her whole body coil tight. When he hits a certain angle, she can feel it in her toes. 

Tomorrow, she’s going to lose everything. 

But tonight, she still has this.


	2. i'm at one with the silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On her own, Allie comes to an important realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got inspiration, so I decided to continue. Thanks to anyone who commented/left kudos! 
> 
> Title is from Silence by Marshmello ft. Khalid
> 
> Warning: Will fans will not love this chapter. I just don't really like his character.

Her stomach turns when Will comes to say goodbye the next morning. 

She’d thought about him for the first time around fifteen minutes after Harry had left, unwrapping himself from her and pressing one more hard, almost bruising kiss to her lips. She’d gathered up her clothes, slid her panties back up her legs, hooked her bra back on, yanked her sweater over her head and her skirt back over her hips, and sank down on the floor, pulling her legs into her chest. 

Of all the things she’d expected herself to be doing on the eve of the end of her life, having sex with Harry Bingham against the wall of Luke’s wine cellar was certainly not one of them. 

It was just a distraction, she tells herself. You’re overwhelmed and panicking, and he was just there. It could have been anyone. 

(That’s a lie. There’s this magnetic pull between her and Harry, this gravitational attraction that’s getting harder and harder to ignore). 

It doesn’t hit her until she’s spent a few more minutes just sitting there: Will. 

She has a boyfriend, and she just had sex with another guy. 

Allie almost wants to be sick, but instead she just closes her eyes tight and forces herself to breathe. 

It was a mistake. She’s human. And this was (almost) the worst day of her life. He’ll understand. 

Does it even matter if he doesn’t? Starting from tomorrow, he’s practically forbidden from ever seeing her again. Their relationship is already over. 

Forcing back the guilt, she’d somehow managed to fall asleep. 

Except now, when she’s face to face with him, it suddenly rears its ugly head. Staring at Will, all she can think about is how Harry had looked at her right after their last kiss – his mouth a little red and his hair ruffled from her fingers and a bruise in the shape of her mouth peeking out from the collar of his button down. 

She’s so fucked. 

“Hey,” she smiles a little tightly at Will, accepting his hug gingerly. She’s thankful he doesn’t try to kiss her, especially when Campbell steps up next to them. 

“Well, well, well, isn’t this a cozy scene. Don’t forget to kiss your girlfriend goodbye, LeClair. It might be the last one for a while.” With a wink, he saunters away. 

Rolling her eyes, Allie steps back from Will a little bit, only to bump into someone behind her. “Sorry,” she says, expecting to see a member of The Guard. Instead, it’s Harry, looking about ten times more put together than she feels and infinitely less excited to see her than he’d been last night. 

In fact, he averts his eyes quickly, mumbling something back before turning away. He stops midway though, and she watches his gaze fall to where Will’s hand is still on her shoulder. 

“Asshole,” Will mutters, mostly to her, even though Harry is still six inches away and can definitely hear. 

She just shrugs, her face heating from how horribly awkward this situation is. “Allie,” Will says, lifting his hand from her shoulder to tangle in her unruly blonde curls. Harry still hasn’t moved. And then, to her horror, Will is bending down, his mouth shifting ever closer to her lips. 

“Stop!” She pulls away quickly, her shoulder brushing Harry’s. “Will, we can’t.” 

“Can’t what?” his eyes go wide and hurt and all she can think about is a year ago when she’d kissed him for the first time. Their roles are almost perfectly reversed now. Back then, she would have given anything for him to reciprocate. Now, she just wants to be as far away from him as possible. 

“We can’t be together. I’m about to be sent away for who knows long. I don’t expect you to wait for me.” 

Unconsciously, her eyes flick to Kelly, standing to her right in the crowd that’s gathered to see her off. She’s doing a pretty terrible job of pretending like she’s not watching her and Will. 

“But you’re my girlfriend. And my best friend. We can’t just break up like this.” Will’s tone has adopted an almost whiney quality that suddenly grates on her. Suddenly, everything about him does – from the way he’s still holding onto her to how he’s choosing to do this in public, inches away from the boy she had sex with last night (granted, he doesn’t know that, but still). 

They’d met in eighth grade, when he transferred to the school district after being placed in a new foster home. It had been that one strange school year where she and Cassandra were separated - she was up at the high school while Allie remained in junior high– and she’d been so lost without her sister’s shadow to hide in. Will had sauntered in to her first period English class late, unapologetic, and missing his summer reading book. He’d asked to borrow hers and the rest was history. 

He’d been the first person to know her without her sister. And for that, she thinks she’ll always love him. 

But things haven’t been the same between them for a long time. 

“I love you, Will. I think a part of me always will. But our relationship is over. It’s just not meant to be.” She puts her hand gently on his arm, hoping to ease the blow of her words. 

Will’s face flushes, the way it does when he gets upset or flustered. “Allie, we have to at least try-” He reaches out to grip her arm, but instead finds his own suddenly in a death grip. 

“I think she said it was over. Twice. Take a hint, LeClair.” To her shock, Harry has stepped around her and is now in a death stare with Will. 

“It’s none of your fucking business, Harry,” Will spits out, ripping his arm out of the other boy’s grip. “Why don’t you just go back to being Campbell’s puppet and leave us the hell alone?” 

Harry’s eyes flash, cracking his façade of deadly calm. “What did you just say?” 

Allie tries to step between them then, placing one hand on Harry’s chest. He glances down at her for a moment, breaking his staring contest with Will, and a strange look crosses his face. Before she has time to ponder it though, Campbell walks up to them, The Guard at his side. 

“Time to go, Allie!” He smiles cheerfully, “And just when it was getting interesting.” 

Jason grabs her arm then, Clark latching onto the other one. They shove her forward, her grip loosening on Harry’s shirt. He meets her gaze, something akin to horror in his eyes. 

And then she’s ripped away from him completely, shoved along a dirt path leading to the rest of her life. 

Around midday, they leave her in a field. 

She’s not exaggerating, it’s literally just that: a wide, open strip of grass. There’s forest on one side and a path stretching a couple of miles between her and civilization. 

What the fuck is she supposed to do? 

Gordie, who’d lingered at her side throughout the entire walk up, must sense her rising tide of anxiety because he quickly grips her hands in his own and squeezes. “You’re gonna be okay, Allie.” 

“How?” she chokes out. “I don’t even have anywhere to sleep, Gordie.” 

In true Gordie fashion, his tone filled with nothing but certainty and sweetness, he tells her, “Tonight, you can sleep on the field. There are no predatory animals around here to bother you. There’s food in your bags, along with enough clothes to keep you comfortable. I also threw in some medicine and a couple of tools. You can use those to build shelter – there’s plenty of wood in the forest.” He grins gently at her, “You’re a survivor, Allie. You can do this.” 

She doesn’t know why she believes him, but she does. Maybe it’s because he’s the one person here who cared about her sister almost as much as she did. 

“Okay,” she nods tearily, reaching to squeeze his shoulder as she does so. “Thank you, Gordie. For everything.” 

“It was the least I could do,” he says with a sad sort of smile. He hugs her tight for a brief moment, and she buries her head in his shoulder, breathing deep. This is the last human contact she’ll feel for months. 

“Bye, Allie. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” With one last pat on the shoulder, he’s gone. 

Grizz, who’d lingered on the side, allowing her a few minutes alone with Gordie, approaches her next. They’re both aware of Campbell listening to every word of their conversation, so he keeps it deliberately short. 

“Take care of yourself, Allie." Reaching down, he squeezes her tight. And then he’s gone too. 

She turns away, not wanting to see Campbell and The Guard depart, lest they feel the need to leave her with a nasty parting message. 

When she turns back around, she’s alone. 

She spends most of the first night terrified that some animal is going to come out of the woods and tear her apart. 

After that, things get better. 

It’s February, which means it’s really fucking cold, but Gordie has packed her enough coats, sweaters, and blankets that she finds it survivable. He even included her favorite beanie which for some reason makes her want to start crying. She blames it on the reality of her situation finally catching up with her. 

She takes his advice, too, going into the forest first for timber to start a fire and then for wood to start building a makeshift cottage for herself. She did Habitat for Humanity with Cassandra last summer in Haiti, so she actually does know a thing or two about building houses. 

During the first half of the day, she works on farming the land. They hadn’t really given her special instructions for that, just a bunch of tools and seeds from the grocery store. There’s a crew from town her as well – clearly farming had been added to the list of job rotations this month – but she doesn’t know most of them. It’s deliberate, she thinks. They mostly avoid her eyes anyway. 

By the middle of February, she’s no longer homeless. 

(The victory feels empty without anyone to share it with).

By the time February comes to a close, she’s close to going insane. Mostly because being entirely on your own means there’s way too much time for living inside of your own head. 

She thinks about a lot of things – her parents, Cassandra, Harry, Will, Kelly, and the messed up love square (is that even a thing?) that they’ve managed to create for themselves. 

To keep herself from going stir crazy from boredom, she starts to come up with fantasies. Most of them are stupid – she imagines herself as a princess, a pirate, an astronaut – but some actually contain elements of reality. Her favorite one is about what might have happened if none of this had ever happened but somehow, she found herself stepping out of Cassandra’s shadow anyway. 

In her fantasy, the school is putting on a production of Romeo & Juliet. Harry is, of course, Romeo. Kelly is Juliet. The entire school is gushing about it – naturally, the golden couple would be cast across from each other. Cassandra didn’t audition for this play; she doesn’t buy into the play’s notions of love at first sight and she’s just way too busy for theater now anyway. But Allie still agrees to be stage manager, mostly as a ploy to spend time with Will, whose been cast as Tybalt. 

In the beginning, her fantasy went like this: Will and her start spending time together without Cassandra acting as their third wheel and suddenly, out of the blue, he begins to fall for her. He asks her out on the final night of the show, with flowers and chocolate in front of the whole audience. They get a standing ovation. 

Only that fantasy starts to get interrupted when the version of Harry she’s dreamt up in her mind stops Will in the middle of his proposal. He looks right at Allie. “Say no,” he says, his voice oddly persuasive, “Be with me instead.” 

“Shut up, Dream Harry,” she grumbles, but it’s no use. The fantasy just doesn’t work for her anymore. 

Until one night, in a dream, it changes. She’s unexpectedly forced to audition for Juliet. She thinks it’s a flub, but somehow, she’s cast instead of Kelly. Harry grumbles about it, the entire student body gives her the stink eye for a week. But, something clicks between them during the rehearsals. He starts giving her rides home afterwards. She finds herself actually liking him, all of Cassandra’s warnings about him flying out the window. 

Sometime before showtime, Kelly breaks up with him. He doesn’t take it as hard as everyone expected. 

On the last night of the show, he kisses her during curtain call. She stares at him, shocked, but he’s just smiling in that easy, almost wicked way she now knows is characteristic of Harry Bingham. “Go out with me, Pressman?” he asks flippantly, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells her that he’s serious, that he really does care about her answer. 

“Hmm,” she tilts her head back, pretends to think about it, “I guess so.” 

He kisses her again, tilting her all the way back until her hair brushes the floor. The audience erupts into applause. Looking down, she sees her parents smiling and Cassandra – whose approval she’s always so desperately craved – looking surprised but grinning from ear to ear. Will stomps his feet. Next to him, Kelly claps.

She wakes feeling hot and disgruntled. 

After that, she tries to store away the fantasies, forcing herself to concentrate on the present. Like how much easier her job would be with an actual plow, and how growing season is approaching, and she needs to figure out what she’s actually going to plant. Or how she needs to fix the draft in her cabin and also fashion an actual lock, lest someone like Campbell decides to unexpectedly visit. 

She can’t afford to fantasize about Harry Bingham anymore. 

Because that’s all they are: fantasies. 

In the real world, he’d never paid her the time of day. At least with Cassandra, he’d occasionally peel himself away from Kelly’s mouth to hurl an insult her way. He’d always just looked right through Allie, as though she was never even there. 

In this world – except for those two almost surreal times she’s had sex with him – he’s not much better. She still kind of hovers in his life, not invisible but not really significant enough to actually be someone he gives a damn about. 

She should be used to it by now: she spent her entire life lurking in Cassandra’s shadow, always second (or third or fourth) best, even to her parents. No one would ever pick her first. 

After that very stern talk with herself, she resolves to put Harry out of her mind. 

And it works, for a little while. At least until she’s unpacking everything Gordie has given her and stumbles across a box of tampons. 

She freezes. 

It’s March 3rd, meaning it’s been exactly one month and one day since her banishment began. She should have gotten her period at least two weeks ago. 

She takes a seat very slowly on the makeshift bed she’d created for herself. In her mind, she goes through every symptom she’d witnessed from Becca last year. 

Exhaustion. Check. 

Feeling overemotional. Check. 

Weird cravings. Check. 

Nausea. Check. 

Not to mention the fact that her breasts had started aching the other day. She’d thought it was just a sign of her period approaching, not realizing that it was actually well overdue by now. 

She thinks back to her night with Harry, just a month ago. They hadn’t used a condom. Fuck, why hadn’t they used a condom? 

Oh right, because she was on the pill when they first slept together, and she’d told him that. But she’d spent a month locked up in a basement the second time, with no access to her birth control pills. After all, she wasn’t exactly in need of it. 

In all the emotional upheaval following her conviction, she hadn’t even thought of birth control when she was with Harry. She’d just needed a moment to feel okay again. 

Holy shit.

She’s pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I think you guys can guess the spoiler-y tag I'm adding for next chapter lol. 
> 
> We'll be seeing Harry and the others again soon, don't worry. 
> 
> Please comment and kudos!!


	3. there's oceans between you and me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie finds herself back amongst familiar faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for your comments and kudos!! As a general response to some of your concerns: yes, this will a longer story (currently have it planned out for 11 chapters) and Harry and Allie's relationship will definitely be a slow burn filled with angst. She's definitely not going to forgive him over night. 
> 
> I'm also glad that you guys think the banishment idea is cool. I was worried about that. However, I will tell you that it doesn't last forever. 
> 
> Title is from Oceans by Seafret. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter, I think it's the longest one yet!

Surprisingly, she doesn’t immediately spiral into panic after realizing that she’s pregnant. Instead, she gently sets the box of tampons on the floor and crosses her legs underneath her on the bed, her hands resting on her knees. 

It feels like the calm before the storm. 

Still in a weird, tranquil stupor, she goes through the facts. Again.

One month ago, she’d had unprotected sex with Harry. 

Since then, she’s missed her period and has started exhibiting all the classic signs of pregnancy. 

A choked noise escapes her, and her fingers start to tremble violently. She forces them under her leg, trying to quell the motion, but that just makes her knee bounce up and down. Her breath comes out high and strangled and choppy and oh god, she’s having a panic attack. 

She’d started having them after Cassandra had died. Before that, she’d shown some signs of anxiety, but the therapist her mom had made her see the first time Cassandra got really sick and had to have surgery had told her parents it was nothing, just a normal part of becoming a teenager and dealing with high school. After Cassandra’s death and taking charge of the town, it had started getting worse. And she’d had to get better at hiding it, too, since any sign of weakness could be interpreted as an inability to lead. 

She’d told Gordie when the anxiety attacks had started, and he’d tried to get her medication. Oddly, they were running low in the pharmacy, which meant that at least one other person in town was probably also dealing with anxiety. She didn’t question Gordie about it, something about the look on his face told her not to, but she’d wondered about it privately. 

(She hadn't wanted it to be just her). 

Her friends would have told her if it was them. It could have been anyone else, though. Lexie? Kelly? Clark? Jason? Harry? 

That last one had made her want to laugh. With his unwavering confidence and arrogance, Harry would be the last person she’d expect to be dealing with anxiety and self-doubt. 

Anyway, right now, it doesn’t matter who else is dealing with the same affliction as her. Because that person is surely miles away, safe in the knowledge that they’re surrounded by people and medication. All Allie has are a couple of pills Gordie had stashed at the bottom of her bag. 

After a quick scan of the bottle’s label – she wants to ensure the medication poses no threat to pregnancy – she pops off the cap and takes two. Her heart starts to calm after a few minutes, her breathing still shuddery but feeling infinitely less like she’s hyperventilating. 

When she finally feels like her heart is no longer is danger of beating out of her chest, Allie lies down on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. She no longer feels panicked but she’s still...angry. At Campbell and Lexie and Harry and most of all, at herself. 

She thinks back to every health class she’d ever sat through, every talk her mother had given her and Cassandra after puberty hit and boys went from being distant creatures with cooties to actual people. How stupid did she have to be to get pregnant the second time she had sex? 

She wants to hit herself. But, as Amanda Pressman had always said, there’s no point in crying over spilled milk. What she needs now is a plan, some semblance of an idea of what to do going forward. 

Gordie is going to be back in a few weeks for her check-up. She’ll tell him then, and he’ll surely be able to handle all the medical aspects. It'll be hard for him to hide that she's pregnant, especially from Kelly, who he shares his medical duties with, but she’s spent enough time around him now to know that he’d probably do anything for her. 

The rest of it...she’ll have to figure out herself. She knows a little bit about what babies need from when her cousin had a baby last year and from Becca and Eden. She thinks she can handle making a crib, and she can probably make a blanket and baby clothes by tearing up the fabric from some of the clothes she has and the extra sheets that had been packed for her. But what about diapers? She could make cloth ones and wash them in the lake, but...ugh. She wrinkles her nose at the thought. 

Still, thinking about the baby fills her with an odd sense of urgency, some kind of purpose. Before, her future had stretched out before her as endless and bleak, but now she thinks she can see some light poking out at the end of the tunnel. Her hand drifts down, cupping her stomach – it’s still completely flat but warmer than usual, the skin tighter to the touch – and she tries to think about something other than the fact that she’s about to be a seventeen-year-old mother with no one else around for miles. 

It comes to her mind too easily: a baby, in her arms, staring up at her through chocolate-colored eyes. The image shifts, and it’s the same child, this time curled around her in bed, impatiently turning the pages as she attempts to read through a bedtime story. Every stage of her life morphs before her, brightened by a laughing little girl with her wild blonde curls. For the first time in a long time, Allie allows herself to smile.

The smile fades, however, as she thinks about what had been missing in every image: Harry. 

She tries to picture him in her vision, then, attempts to place him at her side as she cuddles her newborn baby to her chest, but it just feels wrong and fills her with a hot sense of anger. 

They’d had sex, sure, but that was just physical. You could call it stress relief. Despite the fact that her traitorous mind had been trying to suggest otherwise, the sex hadn’t changed any of the circumstances of her relationship with Harry. All it had done was create a baby. 

How could she share her child’s life with someone who’d so callously handled her own? Someone who’d so thoughtlessly fucked her over, then just sat by and watched her be sentenced to eternal damnation? Not to mention Cassandra. Nausea slams into her as she thinks about the fact that her child’s father is a least some part complicit in her sister’s murder.

Her stomach flips and she thinks it’s the baby’s way of telling her to put these thoughts away for another time. In truth, it’s entirely possible that Harry might not ever find out about the baby. With Campbell running things, she’ll probably be stuck here for the rest of her life. 

She doesn’t have to worry about this right now. 

With that thought, she rolls over and tries to find some sense of peace in slumber. 

Gordie wakes her up bright and early on the morning of April 1st. 

Lately, she’s started waking up around six a.m. to puke her guts up, then rolling back into bed until nine, when she starts the routine all over again. It’s awful, and she’s sure she looks like a mess when she sits up in bed, blinking blearily at Gordie. 

“Hey, Allie,” he says cautiously, his bright smile flickering momentarily. “How are you?” 

“Great,” she deadpans, then forces herself to grin up at him, because it’s Gordie. “You have no idea how good it is to see you.” 

“You too, Allie,” he tells her genuinely, “But, uh, you don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Actually,” she sits up, wincing slightly as she realizes how badly she’s about to shock him. Oh well, she figures it’s probably best to just rip off the Band-Aid. “Gordie, I’m pregnant.” 

His face whitens. “Shit.” 

“Yeah,” she gets to her feet, offering him the bed in case he needs a moment to sit down, “That was kind of my reaction too.” 

“Allie, what are you going to do?” 

“I want to keep it,” she says firmly. “At first I was panicked and scared, and I still am, but Gordie, this is my baby. I feel like she’s my second chance.” 

He still looks a little shell-shocked, but he smiles then, slightly. “I already know there’s no chance of trying to talk a Pressman out of anything.” At her nod, he continues, “It’s going to be hard, Allie, you know that. But if anyone can do it, it’s you.” 

She feels tears well in her eyes, “Thank you, Gordie. I still feel so stupid, though, you know. Cassandra is probably so mad at me right now.” 

“Hey, hey,” he touches her arm, forcing her to look at him, “We’re living in a society of 250 teenagers with no parental supervision whatsoever. I’m actually surprised that this only our second unplanned pregnancy.” 

She snuffles. “Technically, Becca was pregnant before this even happened. So, I guess that makes me the only delinquent here.” 

“You and Will.” Gordie shakes his head ruefully. 

Her smiles fades. “...Right.”

She knows it’s wrong, but she can’t tell him the truth. So far, Harry is her dirty little secret. No one has any clue what’s happened between them, and she’d like to keep it that way. Especially since Gordie hasn’t been able to even look at the other boy since his role in Cassandra’s murder was revealed. 

“Gordie, could you not mention anything? To Will, or to anyone?” 

He looks alarmed, “Don’t you want him to know?” 

“Not like this,” she shakes her head. “Not when there’s almost no chance we’ll see each other again. He’ll do something stupid to get to me, and I can’t have him taking risks like that.” 

Not to mention the fact that she and Will never even had sex, so if he finds out she’s pregnant, he’s going to realize pretty quickly that things aren’t adding up. 

“And besides, there’s no telling what Campbell will do when he hears I’m pregnant.” A shudder runs through her at the thought of her cousin and the look on Gordie’s face tells her he agrees. 

“Allie, I know you want to keep this a secret, but I still think we should take you into town for a proper checkup. I’ll do it, so no one else will have to know. But we should definitely confirm the pregnancy and check to see if the baby is healthy.” 

She nods reluctantly. The baby’s health is more important than protecting her secret. 

“You can tell everyone I’m sick and I need treatment in town. Morning sickness is kicking my ass, so I won’t have a problem faking it.” She looks across the bed at Gordie, “So, how is everyone? I can’t believe I didn’t ask – it’s been months.” 

“Well, to be fair, you were a little distracted.” Gordie nods at her stomach. “And, things are actually okay. It seems like Campbell is being edged out of power a little bit now that Harry is taking less of a backseat role.” 

Her head flies up, “Really?” She’d always seen Harry as Campbell’s puppet, unwilling to fight back. 

“Yeah, I know, it was pretty shocking. But he’s actually started enforcing the rations and job rotations again. I think it’s Kelly’s influence.” 

“Kelly?” Her voice sounds strange. She clears her throat. 

“Oh, they’re back together. She says it’s different this time, that she’s helping him through something and she’s going to put herself before him this time instead of just following along. I guess it’s going pretty well so far.” 

She feels faint. And then the hurt and anger settle in. 

What did she expect? His behavior during the trial and the election show how little he cares for her. The cellar hadn’t changed that. 

She would never be number one for him. She couldn’t put her baby through that as well. 

The decision is pretty clear then: she’s not going to tell Harry that she’s pregnant with his child. 

She and Gordie arrive in town as night is settling in. She’d thrown up a few more times that day, and she feels weak and light-headed as they walk towards the clinic. The rest of the town is thankfully in a town meeting called by Lexie to discuss switching job rotations, and she’s never felt more grateful. 

All she wants right now is a nap. 

She’s finally allowed to lie down in the exam room, and she gratefully eases herself down, enjoying the welcome relief of being off of her feet. Gordie walks in a few minutes later, carrying a tube and rolling an ultrasound machine. 

She hesitates as he pulls up her shirt and squirts some clear looking gel onto his hand. “Does it...hurt?” She hates how nervous she sounds. 

He laughs a little bit. “No, uh, but it might be cold.” 

“Oh,” she smiles, slightly embarrassed, “Okay then.” 

It is cold, and she shivers slightly as he places the probe on her stomach next. Instantly, an image pops up on the screen, black and grainy but unmistakable. 

She’s only two months pregnant, so the baby is tiny, just a little dot on the screen, but it still fills her with an odd sense of warmth. She feels a tear slide down her cheek, and Gordie discreetly slips her a tissue. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just...hormonal,” she finishes, wiping away more tears. She can’t take her eyes off the screen. 

“It’s okay, Allie,” Gordie smiles gently, “It’s your baby. You’re allowed to love it already.” 

She and Gordie take the long way on the walk home, mostly because the fresh air helps to undercut the nausea she’s been battling all day long. Unfortunately, their timing is off, and they happen to pass the church just as the rest of the townspeople are streaming out. 

She increases her pace, pulling poor Gordie along, when she hears Becca’s incredulous voice behind her. “Allie?” 

Cursing softly, she turns around. Becca stands before her, Sam and Grizz to her left. She holds a baby bag on her shoulder, while – interestingly – Grizz carries a sleeping Eden. His free hand in intertangled with Sam’s. 

“Hi,” Allie whispers, somehow near tears again.

Becca’s confusion morphs into happiness at seeing her friend, at least until a shadow looms over them. “Hello, cousin.” Campbell’s voice is as deadly as the flat expression on his face, “Care to share what the fuck you’re doing here?” 

She’s standing in the kitchen of what used to be her old house, holding a mug of tea between her hands. It’s too hot, but she hadn’t had the heart to tell Sam that when he’d handed it to her. She could already sense his fear and discomfort at having his brother in the house. 

Campbell, Lexie, and Harry all stand around her. The latter is avoiding her eyes. Grizz and Gordie hover in the doorway, not having been dismissed but also not invited to participate. She can feel the worry and fear radiating off of them all the way from here. 

“You know the terms of banishment, Allie,” Lexie tries for menacing, and Allie swallows a laugh. “And yet, you’ve violated them.” 

“She’s sick, Lexie,” Gordie interjects, “It was my decision to bring her back, so I could give her a workup in the clinic.” 

Campbell eyes her disdainfully, his gaze darting from her pale face to the way her clothes hang loosely from her thin frame. Instead of gaining baby weight, she’s dropped a few pounds because of her morning sickness. “It doesn’t look like she’s dying or anything.” 

“I’ll go,” she says, loudly, cutting off Gordie’s response. She can’t take another second of Campbell’s leering, Lexie’s desperate bid for authority, and Harry’s obvious avoidance of her. “Clearly, I made a mistake in coming here. But, please, don’t punish Gordie for this. He just wanted to help -”

Suddenly, her stomach turns and a fresh wave of nausea rolls through her. She sets down the tea, turning towards the sink, but it’s too late. She can already feel the bile in her throat. 

Leaning down, she vomits all over the closest available surface.

Which just happens to be Harry’s shoes. 

She doesn’t remember much from how she got from her old house to the clinic – Harry’s exclamation of disgust, Grizz’s hands on her back, pulling her hair back, and then Gordie’s gentle fingers on her wrist, leading her out the door – but it’s where she sits now, in a cold metal chair with a needle in her arm. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Harry demands from by her side. He’d insisted on coming along after she’d puked all over his expensive leather shoes. Not that he’s done much since then besides cross his arms over his chest and glower at her. 

Gordie ignores him. “That’s the seventh time you’ve thrown up today. That’s excessive, even for women with your...condition. I’m gonna draw some blood and, in the meantime, check the books in the library, see what I can find.” 

He ducks out of the room then, leaving her alone with Harry. 

The silence between them is harsh and she doesn’t say anything for the first couple of minutes, instead choosing to focus on how ridiculous his socked feet look against the cold linoleum floor of the clinic. 

He breathes loudly, clearly hoping to get her attention. When she doesn’t speak up, he clears his throat, “How are you doing?” 

“Never been better,” she says cheerfully, and then swivels her head around to look at him. “How about you? How’s the power? Is it everything you ever dreamed it would be?” 

His eyes widen at her hostility – seriously, what the fuck else had he been expecting? – but they’re interrupted by Gordie stepping back into the room. “Uh, Allie,” he nods at her, “I need to talk to you.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Anything you have to say to her, you can say with me in the room.” 

Gordie shakes his head, “Actually, I can’t. Doctor-patient confidentiality.” 

Harry steps closer. “As long as she’s in New Ham, she’s a prisoner. So, screw doctor-patient confidentiality. Say it.” 

For a moment, she thinks Gordie might actually punch Harry in the face. She certainly wants him to. But then he just sighs, flipping open the book he’d carried into the room. “Allie, you have something called hyperemesis gravidarum.” 

Both Harry and Allie stare at him blankly. Finally, Gordie clears his throat, “It’s a rare form of nausea and vomiting that occurs during pregnancy.” 

She sees all the color drain from Harry’s face. He looks between her and Gordie wildly before choking out, “Pregnancy?” 

“I’m pregnant,” she blurts out, and Harry stares at her so hard she has to look away, her face feeling hot. 

“Anyway,” Gordie continues, “It can get pretty severe. You should make sure to always stay hydrated and stay out of the sun when it starts to get hotter.” He looks at her carefully. “Allie, eating is really important right now, okay? It’s essential that you eat three full meals a day, and snack in between.” 

The way he says it is deliberate and slow, and her face burns. Even Harry seems to find it odd, jolting out of his shocked stupor. Of course, Cassandra would have told Gordie. 

“Sure,” she smiles faintly, hoping it looks better than she feels right now. An unexpected pregnancy, and then a rare form of morning sickness on top of it? This must be serious karma for Dewey. “Thanks, Gordie.” 

“No problem,” he rubs the back of his neck, then glances pointedly at Harry. “So, are you coming back to the house, or...?”

“She’ll stay with me tonight.” The firmness of Harry’s voice shocks her. “I’ll escort her back tomorrow morning.” 

Harry is silent all the way back to the house. When they get there, he wordlessly hands her an old t-shirt and a pair of boxer briefs, pointing her in the direction of the bathroom. She eyes him uneasily; he bounces around like a bomb on a short fuse, ready to explode at any moment. 

It’s only when she’s settled against the pillows of his guest room, flipping through the pregnancy book Gordie had given her, that he finally does. 

He barges into the room without knocking, and she almost drops the book in surprise. His hair is messy, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his face is red. “So,” he says, his tone meaner then he’s ever used with her, “When do you think would be a good time to go over and congratulate Will? Or maybe I should send balloons instead.” 

“Shut up, Harry,” she says wearily, wishing she could just go to sleep. 

“What?” he asks mockingly, “I think it would be rude if I didn’t say something to the daddy-to-be. At the very least, I should sign a card.” 

“Fuck you,” she says, her voice shaking. 

He raises his eyebrows. “Or am I wrong, Allie? Is Will not your baby daddy after all?” 

There’s an odd expression on his face right now – something like anger and jealousy and hope blending all together. 

She could lie. Tell him that it’s Will, but they’re not together anymore, so she doesn’t want him to know. And then she could go away and not have to think about this again for the rest of her life. 

But she knows in her heart that she can’t do that to him, no matter what he’s done to her.

“No,” she breathes out, heavy, “You are, Harry.” 

He looks like she’s slapped him. “W-what?” he stammers. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever slept with. It has to be yours.” 

It could be her imagination, but there’s something close to happiness in his eyes when she says it. He closes it off instantly, his face going hard, but there’s still a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” 

It’s like he’s doused her in cold water. Suddenly, she’s reminded of everything between them. He’s a few feet away, but it feels like an ocean. 

“No.” Her voice is hard, defeated. 

His eyebrows shoot up. “No?” 

She looks up at him, anger lodged in her throat, “All you did was provide genetic material. That doesn’t make a father – it makes a sperm donor.” 

His eyes go huge and melty, desperation twisting his features He looks like a little boy whose just been told Santa isn’t real. 

“You can’t do this, Allie. It’s my baby, too.” His tone is pleading. She looks away. 

“Please, are you telling me that you actually want this responsibility? You don’t care about anyone but yourself, except maybe Kelly. You certainly don’t give a shit about me. How are you supposed to take care of a baby – a screaming newborn who doesn’t do anything but cry and poop and wake up at all hours of the night?” 

“That’s not true, you know that.” He sits down on the bed, reaching for her hand. She pulls it into her lab, away from him. 

“I don’t know that. And even if I did, I can’t take that risk. I actually trusted you, Harry. And you stabbed me in the back, and then let them banish me forever. I won’t give you a chance to do that to my child.” 

She glances away from him then, towards the ceiling. She doesn’t look back until he gets up and leaves, the door thudding shut behind him. 

And then, she allows herself to finally start crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if you like it in the comments! Also if there's anything you guys specifically want to see going forward, just comment


	4. feel like i'm always apologizing for feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie and Harry both struggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's chapter four! I'm going on vacation for this week, so I'm trying to squeeze in as many chapters as possible before I leave. 
> 
> Title is from Anxiety by Julia Michaels ft. Selena Gomez. 
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter: mentions of eating disorders and drug addiction.

Allie has always loved springtime. 

Before all this happened, spring in West Ham meant trading in sweaters for t-shirts, ditching her boots for her favorite pair of beat up Converse, flowers blooming, the days lengthening, school trickling ever closer to ending. 

On the very first Saturday of spring, her mother would, without a doubt, institute a spring clean. Cassandra loved it – organization was her middle name – but Allie and her father would always groan and complain. But they’d go along with it anyway, because no one ever said no to Amanda Pressman. 

Her dad would still try to get out of it, though, without fail. He’d make up ridiculous excuses, winking at Allie before attempting them on her mother, who’d always see right through him. 

It makes her chest feel tight just thinking about it. 

Anyway, the spring clean would always feel supremely annoying at the start. She’d sit on her bed at first, pulling out her MacBook and opening up a Spotify playlist. That wouldn’t be enough to get her started though – she usually liked to spend a good couple of minutes just glaring mutinously into her closet where rows of coats and sweaters still hung. It would be her mom poking her head into the room and telling her to get a move on that would finally get her going, even though she’d still roll her eyes. 

Eventually, she’d get into it. It helped that Will would usually come by at some point during the day. She’d complain to him as he helped her fold her sweaters away, telling him how lucky he was that he didn’t even have to do a spring clean. 

He would laugh, but look away, uncomfortable. 

It occurs to her now that Will probably didn’t have enough clothes to warrant needing to put a portion of it away for the spring and summer, or a parent who cared enough to tell him to do it. 

She swallows her guilt – God, she’d really fucked up her relationship with Will, hadn’t she? – and turns her attention to the present. 

This spring, Allie is implementing her own version of the infamous spring clean. 

She’s been living in this tiny cabin for about two-and-a-half months now and being on her own has clearly turned her into a slob. Her bags litter the floor near the door, making the small space feel even more cramped, and her dirty clothes are casually lying on the ground, patiently awaiting the next time she channels enough motivation to head down to the lake and wash them. 

She needs to get act together. Her mom and Cassandra would be so disappointed. 

Without Will or Beyoncé’s voice in the background to get her through it, cleaning is certainly more difficult. It helps though, that there’s significantly less clothes to fold now. Gordie – or someone else – had packed five sweaters, six t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, leggings, and three pairs of shorts. One winter coat, one smaller jacket, four bras (which are getting harder and harder to fit into), twelve panties, and five pairs of socks. 

Carefully, she folds everything. The coat, she shoves neatly underneath her bed. The pants and shirts go in separate piles stacked cleanly by the door, and the underwear goes in a heap next to it. When she’s done with the crib – the project she’s been working on for the last month, with varying degrees of success – she’s going to have to work on a dresser or something. 

Her father’s hobby had been carpentry. She’s thankful that apparently some of those genes have been passed onto her. 

Preparing for the baby is a monster of a task in itself. One night, she sits down in bed already dressed in her customary tank top and shorts pajamas with her hair clipped up, and makes a list. 

1\. Crib – already in the works. 

She’s thinking she’ll put it right next to her bed, so she won’t have to reach over too far during the night. She’d made the cabin with the baby in mind, so it’s not too crowded, but it’s definitely not comfortable. She’ll have to make an extension or something when the baby is older. 

After all, if she’d had to share a room with her mom growing up, she thinks she’d have gone out of her mind. 

2\. Blankets and baby clothes – on her to do list. 

The summer Cassandra got sick, her parents dropped her off at her grandma’s for the entire month of July. Sam had been with her, so it hadn’t sucked too much, but it had still been the most boring few weeks of her entire life. Eventually, her grandma got tired of her and Sam just sitting around the entire day on their phones, so she’d tried to get them into some of her hobbies. 

Knitting – as opposed to playing cards with old ladies and reading old romance novels– had quickly become both her and Sam’s favorite. By the end of their time at their grandma’s, they’d come up with four hats, two pairs of gloves, and three scarves. She can definitely put that skill to use in making blankets and bibs. As for the clothes, sewing can’t be too different from knitting right? 

She’s going to have to ask Gordie to bring up supplies the next time he visits. A sewing kit, knitting needles, and bras in a different size, although she has no idea how he’s supposed to explain that one or how she’s going to get over her embarrassment enough to ask him. 

So, in summary, Allie has a plan. That feels good, helps her to feel more in control. 

Except for those moments when she really, really doesn’t. 

The anxiety attacks have worsened in the last couple of weeks, especially given her heightened emotional state and how her morning sickness – which persists into the night now – has left her feeling weak, sick, and tired almost all of the time. 

They come mostly when she’s about to go to bed and she allows herself to think about the gravity of her situation. Or when she’s flipping through the pregnancy book she’d brought back from Gordie and she comes across the complications section. She’ll start hyperventilating before she knows what’s happening, sobbing her eyes out when moments ago she was perfectly okay. 

Or, they happen at the most inopportune of moments, like when she’s out planting, and her hands suddenly go numb and start tingling. Next comes the choking feeling, like she’s swallowed a piece of food that’s now lodged in her throat. In those moments, she has to rush inside and away from the probing gazes of the farming crew from town who work across the field from her, never speaking to her but keeping a watchful eye anyway (probably on Campbell’s orders). She’ll lean against the wall, trying to regain control of her breathing, where she’ll stay until hours have passed and her limbs finally don’t feel paralyzed anymore. 

Her medication ran out weeks ago. She wants to ask Gordie for more, but she’s scared. 

Both of the fact that he’ll trigger suspicion if he tries to procure some for her, and that he’ll maybe judge her. Think that if she can’t even take care of her herself, how is she supposed to be a mother to a little baby? 

It’s Gordie, whose been one of her rocks since Cassandra died. Still, she can’t help but feel that maybe some of the worries and self-doubt bouncing off the inside of her own head are also reflected in his.

She’s not used to feeling sure of herself, but she doesn’t think she’s ever felt quite so badly either.

By the time Gordie shows up on the eighth of June, there’s a crib standing proudly next to her bed, four rows of crops planted, and the beginnings of a dresser in the works. 

She’s still struggling with the anxiety but seeing how much she’s managed to get done fills her with some relief. So, when she stands up and smiles when she sees Gordie approaching, it’s genuine. 

“Hey, Allie,” he grins back brightly, “You look better.” 

And she does: her pallor has improved considerably now that the nausea has decided to give her nights off, and she’s slowly started to gain back some of the weight. Her hair is cut shorter now too, less messy and free of knots. 

“Thanks,” she says with a laugh, “I think the baby’s starting to go a little easier on me.” 

Gordie obviously can’t bring a sonogram machine up to see her, but he’s done his best to smuggle her prenatal vitamins and a stethoscope and blood pressure machine he uses to check that she’s doing okay. 

“Everything looks good,” he says, pulling the stethoscope from his ears when he’s done. She smiles in relief that quickly dissipates at the still-worried look on his face. 

“It doesn’t look like you’ve gained any weight, Allie.” He glances down at her stomach, which is still stubbornly flat. “In fact, maybe you’ve lost a couple of pounds. According to the book I’ve been reading, that’s normal for women with hyperemesis gravidarum, but you’re pretty far along now. I’d have expected you to be showing by now, at least.” 

She remembers Becca and the tiny bump that had started peeking out just a few weeks after they all learned she was pregnant. 

“Okay...” she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth nervously, “Is there something I could do?”

“Eat,” Gordie says simply. “You’re having three meals a day like I told you, right?” 

“Uh.” She usually skips breakfast because the morning sickness is at its worst then, tries to force down some fish for lunch, and then manages to finish her salad for dinner. She knows she should be working on another source of protein – there are animals around – but she’s been too squeamish to even attempt it. 

“Allie,” Gordie sighs, “It’s really, really important that you do that now. For the baby.” 

His eyes hold a double meaning. She looks away.

“So, Cassandra told you, I’m guessing?” 

Another one of her secrets. Something that not even Will knows. 

Freshman year, Cassandra’s heart murmur suddenly came back. It got so bad that one day she passed out in her room after school, her lips and face turning completely blue. Allie was the one that found her. 

After that, their parents seemed to disappear. Every moment not spent at the hospital with Cassandra, who was in recovery from her surgery, was at work to try and cover the medical bills. Allie would come home every day to an empty house and a hurried text from her mom telling her not to wait up. 

At first, she’d been okay with it. She loved Cassandra more than anything, she would have done everything for her. She worked hard in school – getting the best grades she ever had – and tried her best to stay out of trouble and keep the house clean. She painted a smile on her face every time she went to go see Cassandra in the hospital, no matter how much it terrified her to see her sister hooked up to machines with an IV in her arm. 

But, it felt like no matter how hard she tried, no one noticed her. 

At school, teachers shrugged off her straight A’s because she was Cassandra’s sister and nothing else was expected of her. Besides Will, people only really talked to her if they wanted to know where Cassandra was (their cover story was that she was staying with their sick grandmother). Even her parents hardly seemed to care if she made it home alive. 

She became desperate to do something, anything for people to finally look at her. 

So, she stopped eating. 

It happened almost unconsciously at first – she’d walk home with Will and the sight of the vacant house would kill her appetite instantly. Breakfast seemed too much of a hassle on her own and her mother would usually still be asleep when she left for school, too worn out from her long shifts and spending the afternoon at the hospital. 

Two months slipped by and then it became deliberate. It was almost a challenge for her: how long she could go without eating a single thing. Every day, she seemed to be breaking her own records. 

She slipped down to 90 pounds before her parents finally noticed. They were out to dinner for Cassandra’s return home, and she was sorting her salad when her mother looked at her plate suddenly. Her gaze snapped to Allie as though she was seeing her for the first time in months – taking in how her collar bones pointed out and her cheeks seemed sunken in and her shirt, the same one she’d owned for years, was suddenly so loose she’d had to tie it just to keep it from slipping off. 

Someone was finally looking at her, but it was the opposite of the kind of attention she wanted. She was suddenly a Problem. Before she could blink, she was seeing a therapist and submitting to weekly weigh-ins. 

She’d stopped after that summer, but from the worry in Gordie’s eyes, it’s clear that he thinks that maybe the problem is resurfacing. 

She sighs heavily. “I’m not relapsing, Gordie, I promise.” 

He eyes her closely, “I get it, you know.” 

She still doesn’t look at him. “What?” 

“Wanting to be seen.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You are, Allie.” 

Harry is walking Kelly back to her house when Gordie returns to town. He’d seen the other guy leave the previous day and some crazy, desperate part of him had wanted to shout, “Stop! Take me with you!” 

He hadn’t, of course. Instead, he’d gone to meet Campbell to pick up his pills and then walked to Kelly’s house to see if he could try and forget about exactly who Gordie was going to see. 

It was a fucked-up situation. For Kelly, for Allie, and for himself. It’s not fair to either girl. It’s not their faults he’s a screw up. 

Kelly is talking about her day, but he’s barely listening. His head feels fuzzy and all he can think about is how Gordie is getting closer and closer, his head pointed down at the ground. When he’s just about to pass them, Harry finally speaks up. 

“Hey, how’s Allie?” 

Kelly comes to a dead halt. Gordie’s head snaps up and he looks shocked for a moment, before his face shutters, his eyes turning cold as he realizes who’d asked the question. 

“Why do you care?” From the way Kelly is looking at him, it’s clear she’s thinking the same thing. She’d liked Allie, Harry knows that, but he thinks that now at least some part of her buys into Campbell’s propaganda about how she was a selfish and manipulative dictator. He can’t blame her; it’s pretty convincing. 

“I don’t,” he shrugs, “I was just curious.” 

Gordie is still eyeing him strangely, but he responds, “She’s okay. She’s doing a little better now.” 

“What was wrong with her in the first place?” Kelly pips up, “You guys never did say.”

Harry’s eyes widen. She’ll probably think it’s Will’s, but the last thing Harry wants is for Kelly to find out Allie is pregnant. 

“Uh, bad fish,” Gordie mumbles instead, and then looks away, towards where his house stretches behind them. 

“I gotta go,” and then he’s gone, leaving a confused Kelly standing by Harry’s side. 

“That was weird.” 

He pulls his hand out from hers, hoping she doesn’t notice. “Gordie’s weird.” 

She looks like she wants to argue – after all, she and Gordie have been working together for months now and she does genuinely like him – but something on his face distracts her instead. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She peers at him closely. 

He doesn’t look at her; he can’t. “Just tired.” 

“Okay,” she says uncertainly. “You know, you’ve been acting strangely for the last couple of months. Ever since Allie came back that one night.” She stops suddenly, and he’s forced to face her.

“Harry,” she takes a deep breath, “You still want to do this, right?” 

He can’t believe she’s doing this here. All he wants to do now is go to sleep, preferably until a time when things aren’t shit anymore. 

“Do what?” he asks dumbly. 

“Be with me.” 

He looks at her then, really looks at her. She’s staring at him expectantly, so much hope in her light eyes. She’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, her long light brown hair pulled into a high ponytail. She looks exactly like she has for the last three years, and he thinks back to when he was fifteen and thought she was all he would ever want. 

Is it still true? If it is, why does he still think about messy blonde curls and bright blue eyes glaring up at him? 

Kelly face has started to crumple slightly, and he hates disappointing her. She could be perfect for him - she's one of the few people left in this town who makes him feel normal, like he's still the same person who liked driving around with his dad and giving his little sister piggy back rides. It's why he'd gotten back with her in the first place. He wants so badly for her to be the one he wants. 

But she isn’t. And he can’t keep lying to her anymore. She doesn’t deserve it, not by a long shot. 

He looks her squarely in the eye.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly, and then leaves her standing in the middle of the street like the asshole he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments are my motivation to write!! :)) 
> 
> Up next: A new perspective, and Campbell starts to learn that what goes around, comes around.


	5. when i’m finished, they won’t even know your name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Campbell gets what's coming to him. Allie's secret is a secret no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, two chapters in one day, whoa. 
> 
> It's mostly because I'm trying to get as much done and published as I can this week, because I likely won't have access to my laptop for the next two weeks. 
> 
> So this chapter is told entirely from a perspective we've never heard before, and was actually extremely difficult to write because I don't particularly love this character. Hopefully it turned out okay. 
> 
> Additionally, this chapter features basically almost no Allie, which is very unlike the rest of the story. I basically just needed a filler chapter to catch up on what's going on in New Ham and with Campbell and Harry. 
> 
> Title is from Praying by Kesha.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Elle Tomkins is used to sneaking out at night. 

Back before her family moved to West Ham, when she had friends, Elle would often retreat into her bedroom right after dinner – kissing her mother’s cheek and waving goodnight to her dad – feigning exhaustion. Little did her parents know, that was just an excuse to slip down her back trellis and out into the car of one of her friends, parked a little way down the block. 

So, it’s not too surprising how easy she finds slipping out of bed and through the living room window while Campbell is sleeping. For someone who seems to be aware of practically everything when he’s conscious, he’s a shockingly deep sleeper. She still doesn’t want to risk using the door, though, just in case the sound of it shutting is enough to rouse him. 

Elle has been sneaking out of the house for a couple of months now, ever since Allie was arrested. It’s not even that she has somewhere to go – she just needs a break from Campbell’s fingers digging into her wrist, from his constant breathing down her neck. The only solace she finds is in walking through the town at three a.m., when everything is still and quiet. 

Only tonight it’s not. 

For the first time since she’s started this, there is another soul out and about. Crossing the park, she spots none other than Harry Bingham sitting on the gazebo, his head in his hands. It looks like he might be throwing up. 

She grimaces, backing away. At the last moment, however, she changes her mind, quickly walking towards him. He looks up as she approaches, swiping at his mouth. 

Without saying a word, she takes a seat next to him. 

He looks like shit. 

His hair is messy and in need of cutting again, his cheeks are scruffy with several days’ worth of stubble, and his eyes are bloodshot. 

“What the fuck happened to you?” she doesn’t mean to sound so blunt, but that’s just her natural setting. Harry doesn’t seem offended, though. He just laughs, a bitter sound. 

“Don’t you know?” 

She thinks back to what she knows of Harry Bingham. Rich, spoiled, attractive in a way that all guys like him were, but hot nonetheless. She sees him hanging around Campbell a lot – at the house, during town meetings, in dark corners where they think no one can see. 

She wants to laugh at them, sometimes. Anyone paying attention could see the little clear baggie with those pretty white pills move from Campbell’s hand and into Harry’s. 

“Aren’t the pills supposed to be, you know, helping?” He doesn’t look like anything has been helping him, not for a long time. 

“They were.” He looks up at her then, his eyes shielded by long lashes. He really is pretty. “Until I stopped taking them.” 

That gets her attention. “You went cold turkey?” 

He nods sharply, and it’s only then that she notices the slight tremble to his hands. He notices her noticing, though, and quickly shoves them into his pockets. 

They don’t say anything for a few moments.

“Why?” 

He makes a choked sound. “I need to be better.” He doesn’t say it, but the last two words hover in the air between them: for her. 

For who? she wants to ask. 

Kelly, who she used to look at him like he hung the moon in the hallways at school before all of this, who was the only person who could make him smile in those gloomy months after Allie and Will’s trial? Or Allie herself, the girl who he’s done everything to wreck, but can’t seem to stop staring at when he thinks no one is paying attention? 

She won’t get an answer. She thinks she has an idea anyway. 

She decides to test her theory. 

“Harry?” He’s back to staring at nothing but the slight movement of his head tells her that he’s heard her. “How long is this banishment thing going to last?”

He tries to hide it, but his entire body seems to flinch backwards from her question. Bingo. The victory feels hollow, though, as he turns to face her, and she sees the empty look in his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, and there’s something so defeated in the gesture that it’s hard to look at him, “I guess for as long as Campbell’s in charge.” 

She thinks of Allie Pressman then. She’d been in her grade at school, once. Quiet, but still fiercely intelligent. Elle remembers how she’d cried in the church after Cassandra had died, how she’d screamed out for the killer to be found. How she’d stealthily but expertly created an actual functioning society out of 250 rebellious teenagers. How she’d helped Elle, risked her own position to protect her.

How Elle had spit in her face, after everything she’d done for her. 

Her skin burns. She glances at Harry, at the truly miserable expression on his face, and thinks there’s a serious chance he may never look another way again. 

She takes a deep breath. 

“What if I told you there was a way to fix this?” 

She watches Campbell watch her as they get ready for the town meeting. 

He’s pretending not to, fiddling with his earring as he scrolls through his phone, but she sees his gaze flick to her every couple of seconds. If she were a romantic, she might think it’s because he can’t take his eyes off of her. 

Instead, she feels fear creep up her spine. He can’t know, can he? She and Harry have been discreet about their plan, only discussing it during their three a.m. run-ins in the park, when Harry is too nauseous to stay cooped up indoors and she feels like she’s suffocating inside Campbell’s house. 

Turning around, she shoots Campbell a smile that she hopes is more sure than she feels inside: “Let’s go.” 

Once, her father had told her that there’s nothing worse than a man who hurts women. 

Campbell would have been his worst nightmare. 

He leaves her side when they get into the church, joining Lexie – who appears tired and drained – by the pew. Harry stands off to the side, looking, to her surprise, better than he has in weeks. His hair has been cut, his cheeks are clean-shaven, and when he sees her looking at him, he gives her a small smile. 

I’m gonna fix it, Dad, she thinks, taking her seat. I promise you. 

Harry calls the meeting into order with the same sharp whistle he’d used on the cold December day Allie and Will had been brought in front of the mob. She winces at the sound. 

“We’re going to discuss the new job assignments for the fall,” he says, and then looks right at her. “But first, Elle is going to speak to you all.” 

Campbell, who’d been lazily propping himself up by the podium, suddenly stands to attention. His eyes flit between her and Harry with lightning speed, trying to work out what's happening. 

“What’s this?” he asks, his tone aiming for nonchalant. She sees right through it: he’s panicking. 

She gets to her feet without answering him. 

It’s mid-July, but she’s wearing a cardigan and full-length pants. They’re the only clothes she can wear these days – the only outfits that don’t reveal the bruises marring her limbs, the handprints Campbell has left on her body. 

That’s about to change. 

Elle forces herself to the front of the room without looking at anyone. She can feel their eyes following her all the way and it makes her want to run and hide. 

Focus, she tells herself sternly. Pretend this is a performance. You can’t mess it up. Everything is riding on you. 

“Hello, everyone,” she says once she’s in the front of the room. Her voice is so quiet she can barely hear herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry make an upwards gesture with his hand, giving her an encouraging smile. 

She takes a deep breath. “I’m sure you all remember when I was arrested by Allie Pressman around Thanksgiving.” 

A murmur ripples through the crowd, a dark look crossing most of their faces. She hears at least once person call Allie a bitch. She flinches. 

“Well, what you all probably don’t know is that I’m the one who asked Allie to arrest me.” 

A shocked silence follows her words. 

“I asked her to do it because I wanted to get away from Campbell. He’s an abusive, manipulative psychopath.” Carefully, she unbuttons her cardigan, pulling it away to reveal the tank top she wears underneath. 

Loud gasps echo throughout the room. She tries to see herself through their eyes: bruises mar her arms, there’s a nasty scar on her collarbone from where Campbell had pushed her, and she’d fallen against the coffee table in their living room, and there are dark imprints of handprints on her wrists. 

“He’s been hurting me throughout our entire relationship. One week in, he almost drowned me in a bathtub.” She forces down the lump of tears in her throat, “Allie arrested me, risking her reputation in town and all of your trust, to protect me, to get me away from his abuse. He’s the monster – not her.” 

And then Harry is stepping forward, and she’s out of the spotlight. She shrinks back, swallowing her tears. The people’s faces blur in front of her – Luke, Helena, Grizz, Clark, Jason, Lexie, and of course, Campbell. His face is twisted in raw rage and the glint in his eye actually makes her shiver. 

He looks murderous. 

And right now, all that anger is focused on her and Harry – who’s still speaking. 

“Elle is right about Campbell. He does nothing but manipulate others in order to gain power for himself.” Harry reaches into his pocket, pulling out a clear baggie with four white pills inside – identical to the dozens she’s seen exchanged between him and Campbell in the last year and a half. 

“I didn’t sign up to run for mayor. Campbell did it for me, because he knew I had a chance to win. He forced me to take this job and let him puppet me by holding my drug addiction over my head.” Harry takes a shuddering breath, his face solemn as he gazes at his shocked former classmates. “For the last six months, I’ve been exchanging my power as mayor for pills. That’s why I went along with the conspiracy to arrest Allie and Will, and why I let Allie be banished from town. Not because she interfered with the election, or because I think she’s a dictator, but because I’m nothing but a selfish drug addict. She deserves better. She deserves to come home. And Campbell deserves to be in her place instead.” 

With that, he steps back. 

Elle can’t really describe what happens next. 

In summary, all hell breaks loose. 

Campbell lunges for her first. 

She closes her eyes, prepares for the end. 

It never comes. 

When her eyes open, Harry has caught Campbell by the arm and is holding him back. Luke, Jason, and Grizz all rush to his aid. She watches as together, they twist Campbell’s hands behind his back and lead him out of the church. She lets out her breath, not realizing she'd been holding it. 

Are you proud of me now, Dad? 

She thinks he is, where he may be. 

Campbell is being kept in Luke’s wine cellar, which is apparently the makeshift prison for New Ham. Harry winces when Grizz and Jason report this, for some reason. She doesn’t have much time to think about it, however, because their momentary victory is rudely interrupted by the one variable she and Harry hadn’t considered when coming up with their plan: Lexie Pemberton. 

She steps into Luke’s kitchen wild-eyed and furious. Harry snaps to attention, trading a helpless glance with Grizz. 

“When were you going to tell me that my co-mayor is a drug addict?” she spits at Harry, who to his credit, doesn’t rise to the bait. 

Although he does flinch, he responds, calmly, “I’m not anymore. I went clean about a month ago.” 

“Oh, that’s so reassuring,” Lexie says, throwing her hands up and stepping away from Harry with disgust. She turns on Elle next. “And why wasn’t I informed about this plan to arrest Campbell earlier? I’m mayor, too, you know. I have to know things.” She looks a little strung out, her voice desperate, a vein popping in her neck. 

Elle takes a step backward. She’d always thought Lexie was okay – she had been the one to get the crowd to stop stoning Allie and Will after they were arrested – but something about her seems downright unhinged now. 

Maybe that’s what Allie had meant, when she talked about how being in charge changes you. One day, you think you know who you are. The next, you’re someone who you never thought you could be. 

That’s how fast it happens. 

“We understand that, Lexie,” Harry soothes, his tone placating. He raises his hands as he walks closer to Lexie, as though approaching a feral animal. “But this was our only chance to get justice for Allie. We couldn’t risk Campbell finding out early, so we had to keep our circle small.’” 

Lexie laughs, loud and almost maniacal. She throws an incredulous look around the kitchen, “You think this frees Allie?” 

Harry’s face freezes, his voice laced with panic. “What are you talking about, Lexie?” 

“She was found guilty. What happened today doesn’t change that.” 

“But I confessed – we lied. Campbell made up the story about the election tampering and I only went along with it to get access to more pills.” 

“What, are we just supposed to take your word for it?” Lexie tilts her head to the side and tuts. “You should know better, Harry. The conviction stands. Allie is still banished from New Ham.” A confused look flits across her face then, “Why do you even care, Harry? You hate Allie anyway.” 

Harry falls back without answering, his hands gripping the counter behind him. Elle has a feeling it’s the only thing holding him up right now. He looks like someone just yanked the rug out from beneath his feet. Elle feels the same way. This was supposed to be her big move, the way she finally repaid Allie for protecting her all those months ago. 

It’s Grizz, always the voice of reason, who pips up. “I disagree. I say we bring Allie back and hold a new trial. If she’s found guilty once more, the banishment holds. Otherwise, she’ll be allowed to come back to town and become a full citizen of New Ham again.”

He looks around the room, populated by The Guard, Helena, Harry, herself, and Lexie. “Does everyone agree?” 

Every hand shoots up, except for Harry’s. He looks conflicted and for some reason, worried. Finally, he acquiesces, lifting his hand into the air begrudgingly. 

“So then. It’s settled. We’ll go get Allie tomorrow.” 

The entire town gathers around the park in the morning for Allie’s arrival, almost matching the crowd that turned out to see her be banished. Elle hovers near the front, her hood pulled over her head. 

So far, the reactions to her have been mixed. Some, like Helena, Becca, and Sam, have been kind and understanding, even apologetic about having missed the signs of her abuse for so long. 

Especially Sam. He’d been unable to look at her at all. 

Others, namely the few actual supporters Campbell had, have outright threatened her. Someone had smashed the living room window of Allie’s old house during the night, inches away from where she slept on the couch. 

Allie has to win this trial, she thinks desperately. Or all of this will have been for nothing. 

Well, she thinks, remembering with glee how Campbell is currently sitting tied to a radiator in a wine cellar. Maybe not for nothing. 

Her thoughts are interrupted as a sudden hush falls over everyone. Glancing up, she sees the crowd parting as Gordie and Grizz walk through, a small blonde figure between them. Grizz’s arm is wrapped protectively around Allie’s shoulder, and she hovers behind him, almost as though she's using him as a shield. 

When Grizz finally steps away, she realizes why. 

Allie is wearing a thin red t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Her curly blonde hair, now cut a few inches shorter than it was when she’d left, is pulled back into a messy ponytail. But that’s not nearly the most shocking part of her appearance. 

No, that honor belongs to the prominent bump nestled between her hipbones, poking out beneath the fabric of her shirt. 

Allie is unmistakably pregnant. 

Instantly, every head shifts from her to Will, who stands near Kelly to her left. But he looks even more startled than the rest of them. 

Without even really knowing what she’s doing, Elle turns her head, searching for someone in the crowd. She finds him within seconds. 

Harry is staring at Allie along with the rest of them, but his expression isn’t nearly as shocked as everyone else's. He can’t seem to tear his eyes off of her bump, and Elle is actually stunned by the force of the emotions written all over his face. Surprise, awe, and most of all, guilt. 

Things were about to get dicey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aiming for chapter six to be done and posted by tomorrow night. We're at the halfway point, whoo. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, they were all so nice. Please keep telling me what you guys think, it gives me motivation and makes me happy!! :) 
> 
> Next chapter: Allie is put on trial for a second time. She and Harry have some words. As do her and Will, who is definitely confused af.


	6. it's one door swinging open, and one door swinging closed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie learns you win some, you lose some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to this monster of a chapter - 5.5k words for you all. My hand hurts. 
> 
> This might be my last update for a while, we'll see how the next couple of days go. I'm glad you guys have been enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> Title is from Holding and Letting Go by Ross Cooperman.

Allie wakes up to the sound of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen. 

For one shining moment, she thinks that she’s woken up back in West Ham, that her mother is making breakfast in the kitchen, that Cassandra will pop her head into her room at any second, telling her to get a move on or she’s not driving her to school today. 

That illusion is quickly shattered by the sound of a loud crash, followed by an unmistakably male yell of pain. 

Alarmed, Allie throws off her blankets and rushes downstairs, more than a little wobbly on her feet due to the new extra weight she’s carrying. Her bump isn't too big – it’s difficult to miss now that it’s popped, but it’s still pretty small – but it is affecting her gait. 

When she finally skids to a halt at the base of the stairs, she surveys the downstairs. It’s messy with people’s belongings and baby supplies, but empty save for the floppy-haired figure of Grizz in the kitchen. He’s holding his hand under the tap, shaking his ruefully as he mutters curses under his breath. 

“Um,” she hovers awkwardly for a moment, wishing she’d thought to at least grab her robe to throw over her thin pajamas, “Are you okay?” 

Grizz whirls around immediately, clearly not having heard her come down the stairs. She watches shock flicker across his features as his gaze falls on her bump, even though he’d seen it just last night. Evidently, he’s having trouble believing it’s actually real. 

“Yeah,” he says nonchalantly, trying to hide the fact that he was staring at her stomach, “I, uh, I was making you tea, but I underestimated how hot the kettle was.” An apologetic look appears on her his face, “Shit, I didn’t wake you, did I?” 

“You did,” she says, crossing the living room to take a seat at the counter, “But I think I'd been sleeping too long anyway. That’s the one thing nobody tells you about being pregnant: how tired you are all the time.” 

He looks slightly uncomfortable, the question clearly on the tip of his tongue. Not wanting to get into it, she changes the topic quickly, “So, where is everyone else?” 

His expression clears, his tone much lighter as he responds, “Sam, Bean, and Gordie are all helping out in the clinic. Becca had an early shift at the cafeteria.” He smiles lightly, “So I guess you’re stuck hanging out with just me and Eden this morning.” 

He doesn’t specify where Will is, and she doesn’t ask. Her former best friend had bolted the moment her bump was revealed, and she hasn’t seen him since. 

“Eden?” she spins around on the swivel chair, searching for the baby in question. “Is she still sleeping?” 

“She was up a couple of times last night – I think she’s teething or something. Becca said she’d probably be asleep for a while.” 

“Oh, alright,” she nods, and they hover in awkward silence for a bit. 

“Hey, Grizz?” she asks at the same exact time he says, “Allie, can I ask you something?” 

They both look at each other for a second before bursting into laugher. “You go first,” she says with a smile. 

“The baby,” he says, looking like he’s sorry for even bringing it up, “I know, it’s none of my business. But it’s just such a shock. Will never even said anything.” She winces at that.

“You only have to tell me if you want,” he amends hastily as he notes her expression, holding out his arm slightly as though he’s afraid he’s offended her. 

She considers this. For months, she’s had to no one to talk to about the baby – no one with whom to share her hopes, dreams, fears, and anxieties. And this is Grizz, the boy who she barely knew at the beginning of all of this yet is now one of the people she trusts most. 

“You know what? Let me go grab a shower while you wait for Eden to wake up. Afterwards, we can take a walk and I’ll tell you all about it.” 

Grizz smiles brilliantly back at her, and she feels lighter than she has in ages. “I’ll hold you to that, Pressman.” 

“So,” Grizz breathes out an hour later from where he sits next to her on the park bench, Eden perched carefully in his arms. “Harry.” 

“Harry.” She affirms, twisting a lock of hair around her finger as she watches for his reaction. 

“Man, I don’t even know what to say.” Grizz says, squinting at her in the sun. “On one hand, it’s almost unbelievable. I mean, this is the guy who singlehandedly helped overthrow you in a coup resulting in your banishment from the town you helped create. On the other, it makes perfect sense.” 

That makes her sit up. “It does?” 

“Well, yeah,” Grizz says vaguely, in that wise way that she’s grown to associate with him. “There’s something about the two of you together that...just seems right.” 

It fills her with an odd sense of warmth that she doesn’t especially like, because pleasant feelings about Harry Bingham are the last thing she needs right now. 

Not wanting to dwell on it, she switches the topic of conversation quickly. “So, how about you? You and Sam seem to be better than ever.” 

The happiness that crosses Grizz’s face at the sound of her cousin’s name brings a smile to her own. “Yeah,” he says, attempting to sound casual even as his entire demeanor shifts at the mere mention of his boyfriend, “We’re really good. It’s been a little tough, with Sam’s responsibilities when it comes to Becca and Eden, but we’ve worked out an arrangement that everyone is happy about.” He tickles the cheek of the baby in his arms, “It helps that this one is adorable. No one can be mad when she’s around.” 

“Yeah, she’s pretty cute,” Allie says with a laugh, and then a thought crosses her mind. “Do you think I could...hold her?” 

She hasn’t held a baby in years, which isn’t really reassuring when she thinks about the fact that she’s going to have her own in just a few months. And Grizz was totally right: Eden really is adorable. 

“Sure,” Grizz says easily, transferring the baby into a position that makes it easier to move her. She’s about eight months old now, significantly more aware of her surroundings than she was the last time Allie saw her. Eden lifts her head, staring at Allie with wide brown eyes as she carefully takes her from Grizz’s arms and positions her in her lap. 

“Hi, Eden,” she says, feeling way too nervous considering this an infant who definitely won’t ever remember this conversation. “I’m Allie.” 

Feeling horribly awkward, especially since Grizz is now staring at her, Allie resorts to her last option: making funny faces. Smiling down at the baby, she sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes. It’s a trick she remembers Cassandra using on their neighbor’s baby whenever she used to babysit. 

Surprisingly, it works on Eden. Her little mouth splits into a smile as Allie flicks her tongue up and down, a small laugh breaking free. It travels through the air, warming Allie from the inside out. She laughs too, something within her uncoiling and relaxing for the first time in months. 

Grizz smiles, leaning forward to say something to Allie. She moves closer to listen, completely missing the pair of eyes that are tracking her from the gazebo, filled with wonderment and pain. 

Harry Bingham wishes it wouldn’t feel like something is stabbing him in the chest as he watches Allie play with Becca’s baby, her wide smile lighting up her face and her blonde hair glowing underneath the warm July sun, appearing almost like a halo around her head. 

Allie’s momentary happiness fades as the clock ticks closer to 2 p.m., when opening arguments of her trial are set to begin. She’d had a bit of lunch after she and Grizz came home from the park, but she hadn’t managed to keep it down – because of the baby or from nerves, she doesn’t know. 

Grizz had been worried, offering to get Gordie. She’d told him it was nothing, retreating upstairs to shower and get ready. Now, she sits on the bed of her room, wearing a dark red dress that had once belonged to Cassandra. Inevitably, it clings to her bump. 

Fuck it, she thinks. She’s tired of keeping this secret – she doesn’t even know why she is anymore. 

Her hair is still wet from her shower, and she combs through it absently, listening to the sound of Grizz playing with Eden downstairs. She gurgles happily at whatever he’s saying and for a moment she allows herself to feel sad that her own baby will never have that. 

A father – or at least a father figure – to wipe her tears, to make her laugh, to keep her safe. 

It’s okay, baby, she thinks, tracing the curve of her belly with her finger, I’ll be everything for you. 

_____ _

_____ _

____The door to her room flies open suddenly and she sits up so quickly the hairbrush on her lap clatters to the ground._ _ _ _

____Will stands in the doorway, looking about as panicked as she feels. They stand across from each other uneasily, the distance between them loaded and too wide for either of them to cross._ _ _ _

____“Um, I need to grab something,” Will nods in the direction of the dresser, and she realizes that he’d probably been staying in her room while she was gone. She wonders, distantly, where he’d gone last night in his bid to avoid her._ _ _ _

____“Will, wait,” she says, when he’s grabbed his cap and is turning to head out, “Can I at least explain myself?”_ _ _ _

____“Explain what?” and she recognizes the pain in his voice even beneath the hostility and anger. It makes her ache, too, a stabbing pain exploding in her gut. No matter what had happened between her and Will, hurting her best friend is still one of her least favorite tasks on earth. “The fact that you broke up with me with almost no explanation? Or that you’re pregnant, when we never even had sex?”___ _

______The baby kicks, indicating her discomfort with the conversation. Wincing, Allie forces herself to face Will. “I’m so sorry, Will. I wish so, so badly that I could have done things differently.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“You cheated on me, Allie.” Will says, his façade of indifference cracking as he allows her to glimpse the hurt beneath. “How is sorry supposed to make up for that?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“It doesn’t,” she reaches forward, gripping his hand too tightly for him to pull it away. “Believe me, I know that. Nothing makes up for what I did. Just give me a minute to explain it to you, Will, please.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______She’s practically begging him now, the tears that had pooled in her eyes spilling down her cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _

______He just shakes his head, glancing away from her in defeat. “I’m sorry, too, Allie. But I just don’t think I have it in me to hear any more lies from you.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______And then he’s gone, leaving her standing in the middle of her bedroom in tears._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Grizz, thankfully, doesn’t comment on her reddened eyes as he walks her over to the church for her trial – even though he must have seen Will leave._ _ _ _ _ _

______All he does is squeeze her hand right before they walk in. “Whatever happens in there,” he tells her solemnly, “I’m always gonna be here for you, Allie.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“Thank you,” she whispers, gripping his fingers back tightly._ _ _ _ _ _

______They’re interrupted by the arrival of Lexie and Harry, accompanied by Helena and The Guard. The brown-haired girl gives her a sinister smirk that makes a chill shoot down her spine, while Harry just stares blankly at the ground. She wonders if he’s okay, and then curses herself for it._ _ _ _ _ _

_______That’s none of your business _, she tells herself sternly.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She’s been told that Helena is to be sole judge of the trial, and that it’s to remain closed to the general public for her own safety. Campbell’s supporters will no doubt be seeking revenge, and there’s no telling what they may try to do to her for her role in his imprisonment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grizz, who’s going to be making the argument for her, stays by her side as they walk to the front of the room. She’s grateful for his presence, feeling like she might keel over any moment. Lexie, arguing against her, takes a seat on the opposite bench, smoothing her dress. She looks infinitely more composed than Allie feels right now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry slides into the bench directly behind her. She doesn’t know if that means he’s on her side, or if he just slipped into the closest seat._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Helena strides to the front of the room, looking solemn in a black top and skirt combo. Her engagement ring glitters on her finger as she claps her hands, bringing the trial to order._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Lexie,” she says with a slight nod. “You may begin.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The brunette smiles smugly as she gets to her feet. Allie’s stomach turns._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thank you, Helena,” she says primly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I’m sure you remember when Allie was in charge of the town. She became leader after Cassandra’s death, and we’ll always be grateful to her for stepping up when no one else was willing to. But, she quickly turned into a dictator, acting only on her own whims, without any consideration for anyone else. First, she confiscated our guns – our private property. Then, when she finally found her sister’s killer, she executed him herself without bothering to consider an alternate form of punishment. Time and time again, she’s proven herself to be domineering, power-hungry, and manipulative. She only cares about helping herself.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Allie knows it’s mostly untrue – that Lexie has always hated her for some bizarre reason, that she’ll do anything to defame her character - but she finds herself sinking lower and lower in her seat with every word that leaves Lexie’s mouth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lexie continues, “That is why she tried to interfere with last year’s mayoral election. She knew no one would actually vote for her thanks to her dictator-like ways, so, in a desperate bid to hang onto the power she’d become addicted to, she tried to tamper with the vote.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Helena nods, but her eyebrows raise. “You’ve done an excellent job of painting Allie as power-hungry and corrupt, Lexie, which gives her motive to interfere with the election. But, do you have any actual proof?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The brunette freezes, her mouth trembling as she tries to gather her wits. “N-no,” she stammers, “But that’s only because Allie went to great lengths to cover her tracks. What she did is practically impossible to detect.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“And yet you’re so sure it happened,” Helena says, her tone thoughtful. She gives Lexie a tight smile, “You may call your first witness.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lexie spins towards the bench and for a moment, Allie thinks she might say her own name. Instead, her gaze shifts behind her: “Harry.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry has always been a difficult read for her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Some people are easy – Cassandra, who’d had the same exact tell for when she was lying since she was a little girl; Will, who wears anger like a red painted sign; Grizz, who’s the most adorable lovesick fool she’d ever met – but Harry is not one of them. He seems to have only two default expressions: smug smirk and blank stare._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Today, on the stand, he’s favoring the latter._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She has no idea what he’s thinking, or even if she wants to know._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Harry,” Lexie begins, “How well do you know Allie?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She freezes. There’s no way Lexie can know, can she?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Uh,” Harry rubs the back of his neck. It’s a little red, she notes. He’d had a fresh haircut yesterday. “Not very well, I guess. I ran against her in the mayoral election.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The words ‘she’s also pregnant with my kid’ hover in the air between them, unspoken and oddly hilarious given their circumstances._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“She came to see you, too, didn’t she? When you weren’t reporting to your job?” Lexie’s eyes gleam, and Allie has an idea of where she’s going._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She sees Harry wince, clearly not appreciating the reminder of that time in his life. She didn’t like seeing him like that either: she’ll even take the self-serving asshole version of him over the bitter, broken, and vulnerable boy who’d stroked her wrist in his bed that day._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yes, she did.” Harry says finally, clearing his throat slightly. He still hasn’t looked at her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What did she say?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“She talked about her experience after her sister died. How she was in the same place I was, how she didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to do anything. How, eventually, she forced herself to get up.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lexie clearly doesn’t like that answer. She frowns, glaring at Harry. “And then what?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“She left.” Harry finally lifts his head, glancing boredly around at them all._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Didn’t she threaten to cut your rations if you didn’t report to your job?” Lexie’s voice rises ever so slightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry tenses, clearly debating his answer. Finally, he shrugs, “Yeah, I guess she did.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lexie smirks, finally satisfied as she turns to face Helena. “And there you have it: yet another example of Allie’s oppressive and harsh rule. She didn’t care about any of us – not about what we were going through, and not about whether we actually wanted her in power. That’s why she tampered with our election.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Harry laughs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Allie startles, and Lexie stops mid-rant, turning to face him. “I’m sorry?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Cut the crap, Lexie,” Harry says tiredly. “We all know that Allie didn’t tamper with the election. She was a good leader who made some mistakes. But she’s only human. Sure, she cut my rations, but she only did it because she couldn’t make an exception for me without making it seem like everyone could just stop showing up to their jobs without consequences. Every difficult choice she made was for the collective good of the community and hey, at least she made the choices. The rest of us just ran when it got hard.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Allie thinks she may have stopped breathing. Who is this Harry – standing up for her in front of everyone, actually defending her character against Lexie’s attacks? She tries to meet his gaze but he’s looking down at the ground again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Helena looks surprised, but also kind of as though she’s hiding a smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I think we should take a recess.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The last witness is Luke. Allie realizes this with five minutes left in their lunch break, when she sees him whispering with Lexie. Standing up, she tells Grizz she’s going to the bathroom. Without even knowing what she’s doing, she walks up to Luke the moment Lexie saunters away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Allie.” He stiffens the moment she approaches him. “I don’t think I should be talking to you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What the hell are you doing, Luke?” she demands, the anger in her tone surprising them both._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He looks like she’s slapped him, his eyes darting everywhere but her face. “What are you talking about, Allie?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You forced me to become leader in the first place. You swore to be at my side, every step of the way. Did that promise mean nothing to you, Luke?” Her voice breaks slightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He averts his gaze. “It did, but you changed, Allie. You became a different person.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“No, I didn’t, Luke. I made mistakes, sure, but they were to protect all of us. Campbell sold you all a lie to turn you against me. But think about it. Do you really think I’m that person?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He lifts his gaze to her, finally, his eyes wild. He opens his mouth to speak, but they’re interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing behind him. Allie turns to see Harry – who’d ran out of the courtroom like there was a fire at his heels as soon as recess was called – standing behind them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Uh, Helena wants everyone back in the courtroom.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Luke shuffles past her quickly, his head down. Harry turns to do the same, but she stops by reaching out. The tips of her fingers barely brush the fabric of his sleeve, but he stiffens just the same._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Harry,” she forces out, wishing she could reach out and turn his head, forcing him to meet her eyes. “Thank you.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He doesn’t say anything, and she turns to go, shaking her head at her own stupidity. Before she can leave, however, she feels the ghost of his fingers on her skin. He places his hand over the curve of her own where it rests on his arm, squeezing lightly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“You’re welcome,” he whispers, stepping past her and into the courtroom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Lexie doesn’t get to call up Luke when they settle back into their seats. Instead, he strides up the front of the room himself, facing Helena._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I was supposed to be a witness in today’s trial, but I can’t, because I don’t think what I would say is the truth.” He looks right at Allie. “When Allie first took charge, I made a promise to always be at her side. And I broke that promise – because I thought she’d changed, that she’d become power-hungry and corrupt. But I was wrong. It was all a lie created by Campbell so that he could take charge himself. Allie is...” He takes a deep breath, shaking his head as he goes over his words. “Allie is...good. She’s flawed, but she’s kind. She always puts others first, even if it means hurting herself. She wouldn’t attempt to tamper with the election. That’s not who she is.” He bows his head slightly. "I’m sorry I ever said otherwise.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________With that, he strides out of the courtroom, leaving all of them staring after him in shock. Allie turns to look at Grizz, only to find he’s already looking at her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I think we just won this thing,” he says in disbelief._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Hardly daring to breathe, she lets out a laugh, her hand gripping his arm to ground herself. “I think so, too.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Allie barely hears Grizz and Lexie give their final arguments. She’s only aware of the boy sliding back into his seat next to her, his eyes trained on Helena._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It’s all up to her now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Helena takes a moment to gather herself, hugging her arms tightly without looking at them. She’s seemed distracted ever since Luke’s testimony, and Allie hopes that that’s a good thing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Thank you for all your arguments. I’ve made my decision,” Helena says finally. She lifts her chin. Allie, fingers trembling, grapples for Grizz’s hand. He squeezes back hard. This decision doesn’t just determine the course of her own life, but her baby’s too._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Nothing has ever been more important._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“In the case of the People of New Ham versus Allie Pressman, on the charge of election fraud, I hereby find her not guilty.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grizz immediately lets out a loud whoop, but Allie can barely feel anything. She’s scarcely conscious of Helena still speaking, removing her terms of banishment, of Grizz hugging her tight, of Lexie’s incredulous claims of outrage._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She won._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She won._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She won._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It takes three times to feel real. Finally, Allie lets herself start to smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Grizz immediately declares that they need a party to celebrate, texting Sam and Becca to start preparing. Allie laughs, letting him throw an arm around her shoulder and drag her along – his enthusiasm is contagious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The party ends up being just her, Grizz, Sam, Becca (once she gets Eden down for the night), Bean, and Gordie. They eat chips and pizza and the boys drink beer. Becca asks her questions about her pregnancy, shows her pictures of Eden Sam snapped on his camera. Gordie tells dumb jokes, Grizz excitedly recounts every detail of the trial. They talk about everything, and nothing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Allie feels better than she has in months._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________At least until the front door slams open and Will walks in. He barely looks at them, just shakes his head and makes his way upstairs. They all glance at each other uncomfortably, falling silent. No one can quite look at her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Excuse me,” Allie mumbles, and then she’s stumbling up the stairs, after Will._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He’s in her room, angrily opening drawers and stuffing his things into a bag. He hears the door open – he must – but doesn’t turn around._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Will,” she says helplessly._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What the _fuck _do you want, Allie?” he asks harshly, and she staggers back as she realizes he’s not just angry, but drunk. She can smell it all over him. Her stomach rolls.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I want to talk to you,” she says, on the verge of tears all over again, “I want you to look at me, goddamn it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“I don’t want to!” he shouts, and she’s sure everyone can hear it downstairs. “Because when I do, all I feel is anger. And hate.”___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Don’t say that,” she whispers. “Come on, Will. Please.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“I hate you,” he spits, his face twisting. “Do you understand that, Allie? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. I wish you’d never even come back.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She feels like there’s a crack underneath her ribs. A giant, gaping hole that sucks in all the air from her lungs and makes it difficult to breathe._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Her best friend in the world hates her. She can’t believe she’s so badly fucked up the relationship that once meant the most to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She turns around, running down the steps. Gordie is waiting at the bottom, his eyes wide and apologetic, but she shrugs off his arms. Her eyes are blurry with tears, she can barely see straight. She just wants somewhere to be alone, somewhere where she can let out the tidal wave of grief that suddenly erupts inside her chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Before all of this, all she’d had were Cassandra and Will._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Now, they’re both gone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Where does that leave her?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She’s stumbling around town like a crazy person._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She knows how unsafe it is, how the others at the house are probably going out of their minds looking for her, but she can’t think straight. It’s raining, hard enough that the rest of town is deserted, everyone nice and dry indoors, but she barely feels it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Will hates her. Cassandra is dead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________It plays on her mind like a loop, on repeat. Her former life feels like it had never even existed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She finally gets to the park, where she plops down on the bench, and pulls her legs into her chest. It’s a difficult maneuver – the baby is poking out in between – but she manages it anyway. Resting her head on her knees, she finally allows the tears to fall down her cheeks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Allie?” She turns at the voice behind her, familiar even as her groggy brain struggles to put a name to it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Allie,” the voice repeats, warm hands on her bare arms. “You’re soaked.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“Harry,” she breathes, letting him pull her to her feet. “Harry, I messed up.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________“It’s okay, Allie,” he soothes, his voice oddly sweet and comforting. She’s never heard him sound quite so _soft _before. He could be someone else. She sniffles, relaxing against him as she lets her head rest on his chest.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He goes very, very still._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I don’t wanna go home,” she mumbles into his shirt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Okay,” he says, and she thinks his voice might be shaking, just a little bit. “I’ll take you someplace else.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________When they get to his house, he unlocks the door with one arm still around her and leads her all the way up to his room. She feels awareness creeping back into her slowly, emotional exhaustion and embarrassment taking the place of the breakdown she’d experienced in the park._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Harry doesn’t appear to be judging her, though, as he hands her a towel to dry off, and begins ruffling through his drawers for clean, dry clothes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Still silent, he hands her a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. He turns around, clearly giving her privacy to change, and unbuttons his own shirt. She watches the muscles of his back ripple as he pulls off his button-down and tugs on a t-shirt instead, and then looks away before he can turn his head and find her staring._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________When they’re both dressed, he faces her again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, carefully._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She doesn’t. The hole in her chest is still there, raw and gaping. She wants – needs – something to fill it up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“No.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She takes a step towards Harry. He watches her warily. She takes another, and then she’s right in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“What do you want?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“You,” she says simply, and kisses him. He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t push her away either, so she places her hand on his jaw, kissing him again. He unfreezes this time, tangling one hand in her hair and settling the other one against the curve of her cheek. His hands are cold, but she feels like she’s burning where he’s touching her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She moves her lips to his neck. She kisses his jawline, down his throat, his collarbone, his shoulders. She winds herself around him until they are a heated jumble of limbs and she’s not sure where he ends, and she begins._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He’s taking off his shirt. She presses her lips to the bare skin there, nods against his pulse point when his uncertain hands slip under her shirt, settling against the bare skin of her back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________And then that’s gone, too. His shorts go next, along with her bra. He’s being so careful, so gentle. It’s completely unlike the other times they’ve been together. He touches her like he’s afraid she’s going to disappear._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He maneuvers them around until she’s lying on her back on the bed and he’s hovering above her in his boxers. He mouths a path down her neck, between her breasts, across her ribcage. He kisses her stomach, and she wiggles a little bit, suddenly aware of how much larger she is than the last time they did this._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He doesn’t seem to care: one of his hands slip underneath the waistband of her shorts, the other stroking her wet, tangled hair as he kisses her softly on the mouth once more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________And then he’s sliding down, until he’s between her legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She wants, wants, wants, so much that her thoughts her feel fuzzy from it. She’s no longer aware of anything besides the explicit details of him: the way his hair curls against his forehead, the warmth of his skin, how his touches somehow feel soft and hard at the same time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________He’s pulling the shorts down her hips, taking her underwear with it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________His stubble scrapes against her inner thighs, but he soothes the sting with kisses._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She comes apart with his tongue on her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________The next time, he’s inside her and she’s gripping his shoulders, swallowing his groans with her mouth._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Afterwards, she dresses in her underwear and his t-shirt while he just pulls on his boxers and gets back into the bed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She doesn’t want to leave him, and it scares her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She lies down in bed next to him, his eyes dark as they watch her face. He covers them with the blanket, tangling their legs._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Harry,” she whispers, face-to-face with him after he’s shut off the lights._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Yeah?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“This doesn’t mean anything,” she shuts her eyes, not wanting to see his face. She doesn’t mean it to sound so cold, but it does._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“I know,” he murmurs back, his voice surprisingly gentle, more sleepy than anything else._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________She feels his lips press into her hair as they both drift off to sleep._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________When she wakes up, it’s still dark out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________First, she isn’t sure what roused her. Then, she feels it: her entire gut rolls, the pain so acute she feels tears spring to her eyes. Leaning over the edge of the bed, she vomits right onto Harry’s hardwood floors._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Harry wakes at the sound, his voice tinged with furious panic as he asks what’s wrong. She shakes her head, unable to get the words out as bile rises in her throat once more._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________This isn’t morning sickness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________But she has felt it before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, cliffhanger. But you guys can probably predict what's wrong with Allie. Also, sorry if the court scenes seemed rushed or unrealistic, they were not my favorite to write and I think it shows. 
> 
> Lastly, FYI, Allie's stay in town is not permanent just yet and you guys will see why in the next chapter :P
> 
> Please comment/kudos!! It really does make my day and motivate me to write. 
> 
> Next chapter: Kelly has some important realizations//Harry evaluates just what Allie means to him


	7. and i'd be so lost, if you left me alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry reflects on exactly what Allie means to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought this would be a short chapter but it turned out to be almost 5K words. My hand slipped?
> 
> Anyway, this is more filler content with one main plot point coming at the end. It's mostly Harry just being a hot mess. 
> 
> Also, I want to establish a timeline for this story in case anyone is getting confused (I kind of was when I was writing this chapter/planning out the rest of it). I'm assuming that the show starts in like March of Harry and Cassandra's senior year - I'm going with March 2019. Allie and Will are a year younger I'm guessing. The present chapter takes place in late July 2020, and Allie is about six months pregnant. 
> 
> Lastly, just FYI, not sure about the medical aspects of this chapter. Maybe dehyrdration normally wouldn't cause someone to be unconscious for hours, but for the sake of this story, just pretend it does please :) 
> 
> Chapter title is from Hold On by Chord Overstreet. 
> 
> Warnings: references to depression, suicidal thoughts, and drug addiction. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Harry can still remember the night his father died. 

It had been a Friday in early October, right around when school stopped feeling new and things began settling into familiar routines again. The first of his college applications had been due in three weeks – not that his mother would ever let him forget it. She’d been insistently nagging him about them ever since summer had started draw to a close, crowing about how one could never be too early about these things. 

He would usually share an eye-roll with his dad when that happened. 

On that particular Friday night in October, Harry had gone to a football game. He wasn’t much of a sports aficionado – he’d played soccer up until the tenth grade before he’d had to quit after one too many concussions and he buddied around with the football team because really, who else was there? but that was about it. Still, Kelly liked the games and he liked the after-parties. He also liked watching Kelly cheer during half-time in those tiny white and blue uniforms they were required to wear, but that’s beside the point. 

His dad had texted him around nine asking if he could pick up his little sister from karate practice. In the car arguing with Kelly about being the designated driver for the night, he hadn’t bothered to check his phone. 

Actually, he hadn’t picked up his phone for the rest of the night – not until it went off during an intense round of beer pong and he fished it out of his pocket with an annoyed groan, blood curdling in his veins as he took in the rows of unread texts and missed calls from his mother. 

He’d stumbled away from the table and out of Luke’s front door without saying anything to anyone. Dimly, he’d heard someone call out to him – one of Kelly’s friends, Gwen maybe – and ask him if he was alright, if she should get Kelly. He hadn’t responded. 

His hands had been shaking when he opened up the Uber app. He remembers vividly the details of the ride – his driver’s name had been Marcus, he’d had a 4.92 rating, and he’d been driving a silver Prius. When they’d pulled up to the hospital, he’d looked over at Harry – tipsy, sweating, and ash-faced – and said, “I hope everything works out, man.” 

“Me too,” he’d said, and then practically fallen out of the car. The nurse behind the desk in the emergency room had rolled her eyes the moment he’d approached, staggering slightly, but something in her had expression shifted when he told her the patient’s name. 

“Over here, son,” she’d told him, in a voice infinitely softer than the one she’d first used, leading him through the halls. He knew she was trying to make him feel better – instead, he’d felt worse. 

He’d seen his mom first, sitting by what he presumed was his father’s bedside. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to look there first. Instead, he’d focused on his mom – on her bloodshot eyes and the way she held her hands up to her face like she was praying, when he knew for a fact she hadn’t stepped foot into a church for at least seventeen years. 

“Mom,” he’d said, his voice raspy and distorted. She’d looked up, and he swears the first thing he’d seen in her eyes was disappointment. 

Disappointment that he’d shown up to his father’s bedside drunk and too many hours late? Or was it disappointment that it was his dad lying in the bed instead of him? 

He tries not to think too hard about that. 

She’d hugged him tight after that, cried against his shoulder until his shirt became uncomfortably damp and his little sister – sleeping draped across the chairs on the other side of the bed, a bandage across her forehead – began to stir. He’d had to pull away, then, taking a seat as his mother excused herself to the restroom to freshen up. 

Sitting by his dying father’s bedside was torture. Every second was worse than the last as he stared at the needles poking out from every angle, hooked up to machines that beeped ever so often – the only indication that his father was still in there, still breathing.

Around four a.m. the next morning, the familiar, comforting beeps turned into a shrill, monotonous alarm that sent a chill throughout his entire body. 

As he watched the nurses and doctors flood the room, someone shooing him, his mom, and Sam out the door, he’d thought that no feeling would ever be worse than the complete helplessness and despair he’d felt in that moment. 

Right now, sitting by Allie’s bedside, watching as her chest rises and falls ever so slowly, he’s rethinking that statement. 

When he’d first woken up to sound of someone retching, his initial reaction had been disgust, his groggy brain discerning that he must have passed out at a party, and that it was one of his former classmates feeling the consequences of one too many drinks the night before. By the time his awareness kicked in – both that it had been a long time since anyone had partied in New Ham and that the only person he’d gone to bed with the night before was Allie – it was clear that something was wrong. 

Allie was heaving violently, her entire body writhing in pain as she vomited over the side of his bed. He’d shouted in alarm, kicking the covers off of them both, asking her what was wrong. She hadn’t responded, only letting out a low moan, before stumbling out of bed and into his bathroom. She’d crashed to the floor, her chin banging the toilet seat as she bent over once more, throwing up what he imagined was every bit of food she’d consumed in the last twenty-four hours. He’d rushed to her side, pulling her hair into a ponytail he’d realized belatedly he had nothing to tie back with. Tucking the hair into the back of her shirt instead, he’d crouched down so he could see her face. 

“Allie?” he’d asked, hoping to keep the panic out of his voice, “Tell me what’s wrong. Please.” 

“Clinic,” she’d rasped. “I need Gordie.” 

He’d barely paused to pull on a pair of sweatpants and tug a t-shirt over his head before bending down to place one arm behind her head and the other underneath her legs, pulling her into his arms. The house was just beginning to stir – it must have been close to six – and he’d passed a few of his roommates on the way outside, most of them voicing either concern or confusion. 

They’d hardly registered, his mind focused entirely on the groaning girl in his arms. 

The car ride to the clinic felt like hours, even though it was actually just a matter of minutes. Allie was curled up across the backseat where he’d placed her, an arm thrown across her forehead, blocking her face from view. She let out a strangled sound of pain every few seconds though, and he breathed a sigh of relief every time because that meant she was still conscious.

Gordie must have seen his car from the window because he’d been at the entrance the moment they arrived, his face hostile at first then decidedly shifting the second Harry opened up the back door and took Allie into his arms. 

“In here,” he’d said, and Harry had followed him without argument. 

“Is she going to be okay?” Harry had asked helplessly from outside the room where he’d been banished by Gordie as he and Kelly worked on Gordie. At that moment, it hadn’t seemed like it. Allie was pale and sweating, writhing in pain as she gripped her stomach. She’d stopped throwing up, at least, but Harry had a feeling that was more because she had nothing left inside her then a sign of improvement. 

“I don’t know,” Gordie had answered, looking up at him solemnly, before he drew the curtain closed. 

The next time it opened, Allie had been unconscious. Gordie claimed it was due to dehydration, but there was panic in his eyes underneath his calm exterior. He’d also been markedly nicer to Harry than he’d ever been – actually allowing him to sit at her bedside instead of throwing him out into the hall. That had been hours ago, yet there was still no sign of life from the girl lying on the bed next to him. 

Harry feels like his world is ending. 

In the last couple of months, the only thing that’s been holding him together is the thought of Allie and the baby and one day being the kind of father his dad had been to him. It’s been his weapon against the urge to just take one more pill, the thing that gets him through even the worst days when he wants nothing more than just to bang his head against a wall to will the mind-numbing migraines away. 

Last night, when Allie had kissed him, Harry had felt more alive than he’d been in months. It was a better high than any pill could have ever provided him. 

Now, it’s one he might never feel again. 

“Hey.” Harry hears the sound of someone pulling the curtain back and looks up to see Kelly entering the room, an uncertain look on her face.

He just nods, not trusting himself to speak. 

Kelly fiddles with Allie’s blanket for a moment, quiet. He can feel her watching him. 

“Harry, can I ask you something?” 

He breathes out a heavy sigh, dreading her next words. He’d already seen the question in Gordie’s eyes when he’d shown up with Allie in his arms, her dressed in only his oversized t-shirt and both of them not wearing any shoes. With Will’s recent behavior making it clear that he wasn’t the father of Allie’s baby and Harry being the one to bring her here today, people are obviously starting to put two and two together. 

“What is it, Kel?” His voice sounds more tired than anything. 

“It’s yours, isn’t it? The baby?” 

He’s still not looking at her. 

“Yeah,” he says slowly, his tone rough. 

“Oh, Harry,” Kelly says, and when he finally lifts his gaze to her, her expression is more sympathetic than anything. There’s hurt there, and anger and disappointment, sure, but he guesses it’s probably difficult for someone as intrinsically kind as Kelly to feel anything but bad for him as he sits by the bedside of the unconscious girl whose pregnant with his kid. 

Oh god. The baby. A fresh wave of nausea rolls through him, and he’s not sure if it’s just the withdrawal kicking in. In his worry about Allie, he’d forgotten to ask about the baby. 

The kid hasn’t even been born yet, and he’s already fucking up as a dad. 

He looks up at Kelly, his gaze wild, “Do you- do you know if it’s okay?” 

Kelly’s eyes are mournful, but her voice is gentle when she speaks, “We can check on it now, if you want. I can get the ultrasound machine.” 

He nods mutely, and she squeezes his shoulder before disappearing. 

He doesn’t deserve her kindness. 

The voice comes to his mind unbidden and he shoves it down, the way he does all the thoughts that have been plaguing him every day since Cassandra died and it was all his fault. 

Thoughts like ‘it should have been you’ or ‘no one actually likes you’ or ‘the world is better off without you, and maybe you should do something about that.’

(He doesn’t want to remember all the times he’s almost acted on the last one.) 

Harry looks up when Kelly re-enters the room, rolling a machine with a screen attached to the top. He watches in almost trance-like fascination as she lifts up Allie’s shirt – her bottom half hidden by a blanket – and reveals her rounded bump. His breath catches. He’d seen it just last night, but he still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that Allie is actually carrying a life, that there’s a baby – his baby – inside her. 

Kelly pulls out a tube and squeezes some gel out onto Allie’s stomach. When she picks up the probe, Harry swallows nervously. “It won’t hurt her?” 

She laughs, lightly, “No, she’s fine. Don’t worry.” Her face goes somber after that as they both seem to recall the fact that the girl in question is currently lying unconscious in a hospital bed, clearly not fine at all. 

Kelly clears her throat, eager to move on. The machine takes a while to whir on but when it does, Harry almost chokes at the sight of the image on the screen. He’d been around nine when his mom had been pregnant with Sam, so he remembers her bringing back pictures like these to show him and his dad on the days she had doctor’s appointments. Back then, he’d only pretended to look at them with interest so that he wouldn’t hurt his mom’s feelings. Now, he can’t tear his eyes away. 

It’s grainy and obviously not in color, but the screen very clearly depicts a baby. It’s still small – so much smaller than he would have expected given how Allie’s stomach has swelled in the last couple of months – but he can see its head, its shoulders, its arms and legs. 

Kelly does something else then – maybe flips a switch, he doesn’t know, his gaze is still fixated on the screen – and suddenly a loud pulsing sound fills the room. Harry’s pulse leaps into his throat, “Is that the heartbeat?” 

“Yeah,” Kelly says and she’s beaming so widely he can’t help but grin as well, “That’s your daughter’s heartbeat, Harry.” 

“My d-daughter?” He feels like someone has a fist around his heart and is squeezing as tight as they can. 

Kelly says something else then, but he can barely hear her, blood roaring in his ears. He’s going to have a daughter – a little girl, maybe with his eyes and Allie’s blonde curls and her amazing laugh. 

Allie, he thinks, suddenly, desperately, gripping her hand tight. Wake up. We’re going to have a daughter. She needs you – and so do I. 

____ _ _

____ _ _

____Around mid-afternoon, Gordie slips into the room. He hovers for a bit, checking and re-checking Allie’s vitals, and Harry can tell there’s something he wants to say to him._ _ _ _

____Eventually, he clears his throat._ _ _ _

____“You know, after Cassandra died, I hated you.”_ _ _ _

____Harry drops his head into his hands, barely suppressing a groan. Allie is still unconscious, he’s been sitting in the same chair for five straight hours, and his withdrawal symptoms have chosen today of all days to hit him with full force. There’s an intense throbbing all along his skull and behind his eyes, his hands won’t stop fucking shaking, and he feels weak, nauseous, and irritated. He’s one step away from either just taking one damn pill, or a hundred to end it all. The last thing he needs right now is some speech from the guy who was in love with the girl Harry got killed._ _ _ _

____“I hated you so much that I wanted you to be in her place instead. I spent months thinking about how it should have been you, how the world was so unfair to let her die while you got to live.” Gordie heaves a deep breath, and all Harry can think is: me too, man, me too._ _ _ _

____“But I realized today that I was wrong about you. You’re not the selfish asshole I thought you were. After all, you risked everything just to help Allie.” His voice goes soft and thoughtful, “My point is, it’s obvious that you care for her. And I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Because I know what it’s like to lose someone whose important to you, and I would never wish that on someone else.”_ _ _ _

____Harry’s eyes are burning. He lifts his head to look at Gordie, his whole body shaking now._ _ _ _

____“I’m so sorry about Cassandra. You don’t know how much I wish I could take back everything I said that night.” He looks down at his hands, clasped so tight his knuckles have gone white, his breathing going uneven and shaky. “Do you think this is punishment?”_ _ _ _

____“What?” Gordie sounds alarmed._ _ _ _

____“Do you think that the universe is, like, getting back at me or something?” He feels the tear roll down his cheek, and curses as he swipes it away hotly. “Am I going to lose Allie and the baby because of what I did to Cassandra?”_ _ _ _

____Not just her, he thinks numbly. He’s been an asshole to almost every single person in his life – Allie, Will, Kelly, Gordie himself, his mom, and even his dad when he didn’t pick up the fucking phone that night._ _ _ _

____He’s a terrible person. Maybe the universe has finally decided it's time to collect._ _ _ _

____“I don’t know, man.” Gordie looks him squarely in the eye, blunt and defeated. “I used to think I understood the universe, but, if this last year and a half has taught me anything, it’s that we don’t actually know anything about how the world works. We’re just living in it. But I do know this: Allie is a survivor. Right now, there’s nothing we can do besides trust in that.”_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____ _ _

____Grizz is the next member of the Committee-To-Make-Sure-Harry’s-Not-Losing-It to come see him._ _ _ _

____The sun has just begun to slip down behind the horizon, and Harry’s body is starting to realize he’s been up since before six. His eyes keep slipping shut every few seconds, but he won’t let himself fall asleep just in case there’s a chance Allie wakes up while he’s out._ _ _ _

____He’s half-dozing when Grizz slips in, not even registering the other boy’s presence until he clears his throat softly._ _ _ _

____“What do you want?” he asks bluntly, and then winces. It’s not Grizz’s fault that his head is throbbing, and that Allie hasn’t opened her eyes in six hours._ _ _ _

____Thankfully, Grizz doesn’t seem too offended, offering a small smile before slipping into the seat next to him. “I need to talk to you about what happened to Allie.”_ _ _ _

____At that, Harry sits up. He’d assumed that the vomiting and stomach pain were the result of her pregnancy condition, and Gordie had echoed that statement after he’d first brought her in. But, from the look on Grizz’s face, he’s starting to think something else might be going on._ _ _ _

____“Okay,” he says warily._ _ _ _

____“When you first brought Allie in, Gordie thought she was sick because of the baby. But, he read up on her condition to get some more information on how to treat her and, according to the books, she’s not supposed to get this sick.”_ _ _ _

____“Where are you going with this?”_ _ _ _

____“Allie was poisoned,” Grizz blurts out. “Judging from the severity, it was anti-freeze again – the same as Thanksgiving.”_ _ _ _

____Harry freezes. “P-poison?” he stammers out. “Who would do that?”_ _ _ _

____“I’m not sure,” Grizz admits. “My number one suspect would be Campbell, but he’s been locked up for days under constant surveillance. My next guess is probably one of his supporters.”_ _ _ _

____Campbell hadn’t been popular – that’s why he’d needed Harry as a front to run for mayor – but he’d had a loyal core of kids like Greg Dewey. People who’d been loners in high school, ignored by the Harrys _and _the Cassandras of the world. They identified with Campbell, saw him as one of their own.___ _ _ _

______They would probably do anything for him._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry feels a strange sensation then, like his entire body has gone numb. His fingertips are tingling and all of a sudden, it’s difficult to get words out. He feels his breathing go staggered and panicky, coming in short huffs. Black spots appear on the edges of his vision._ _ _ _ _ _

______He’s having a panic attack._ _ _ _ _ _

______There are hands on his back then, a calming voice by his ear, talking him down. Slowly, minute by minute, his breathing returns to normal and his heartbeat slows. He slumps back against his chair, closing his eyes. He can feel Grizz staring at him._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Is that normal for you?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______He nods without opening his eyes. “Whenever there’s a big change of some sort...or someone I care about is in trouble.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Besides when they first ended up in New Ham, his last panic attack had been when his dad died. Before that, when his little sister fell while he was helping her rollerblade for the first time._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ah,” Grizz nods sagely, and they’re quiet for a moment. Harry knows he should feel embarrassed – he’s never had an anxiety attack in front of anyone besides his mom before – but he’s too exhausted to really care._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You should tell her.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“What?” Harry snaps back to attention, focusing his gaze on Grizz._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Allie.” Grizz nods towards the bed, “You should tell her how you feel.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry folds his arms, feeling oddly defensive. “What are you talking about?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grizz rolls his eyes, like come on. “You just had a full-on panic attack because you found out someone tried to hurt her. It’s obvious how much you care about her.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry ponders this. He’s never really allowed himself to think about his feelings for Allie before, because they’ve always been so muddled. She went from being the little sister of his number one enemy, someone he hardly knew, to a girl he’d had sex with (and whose company he actually enjoyed) in a matter of a day. By the pool that first night, he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed her before. She was equal parts hot, smart, funny, and wild._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then Cassandra died and it all went to shit._ _ _ _ _ _

______He went into a dark place for months, and whenever he thought about Allie then, it was tinged in anger. Anger that she’d kicked him out of her house without even an acknowledgement of his apology (even though he knew he’d deserved it), that she hadn’t checked on him, that she only seemed to care about him when he wasn't fulfilling his responsibilities._ _ _ _ _ _

______It wasn’t until she was sitting across from him in that café talking about different worlds that he’d realized he was fucked because damn it, he still felt something for this girl._ _ _ _ _ _

______He didn’t know what it was, but he felt undeniably drawn to her. It was what dragged him down to the cellar that night, what made him kiss her even when every instinct in him was screaming that it was a terrible idea._ _ _ _ _ _

______Allie is...important to him. No doubt about that. She’s having his kid._ _ _ _ _ _

______But still, why does he still think about her late at night when he can’t sleep? Why does her laugh warm something deep inside him? And why had it felt like a stab to the chest when he’d heard she was in danger?_ _ _ _ _ _

______Oh fuck._ _ _ _ _ _

______He might just be in love with Allie Pressman._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Allie’s world feels fuzzy._ _ _ _ _ _

______She’s dimly aware of her surroundings – she hears the sound of people moving around, occasionally voices, a curtain being opened and closed – but it feels like there’s a wall between her and everything else._ _ _ _ _ _

______Her eyes feel glued shut, her arms stiff at her sides. Occasionally, she’ll feel a burst of energy, and she’ll wiggle a finger, breaking free of her paralysis._ _ _ _ _ _

______But then the darkness will come for her again, pulling her under._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Allie’s hand shifts ever so slightly in his around eight p.m._ _ _ _ _ _

______He shouts for Gordie._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______There’s someone at her bedside, holding her hand. At first, she thinks it’s Will but then she hears the sound of his voice – lacking its usual arrogance, but unmistakably Harry’s. Opening her eyes slightly, she can just make out the blurry edges of him: hair sticking out at every angle, shoulders tight with worry._ _ _ _ _ _

______She’s glad he’s here._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Allie wakes up just before midnight._ _ _ _ _ _

______She gazes at him through half-open eyes, a small smile playing on her pale lips: “Harry?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Harry startles and for a moment, they just stare at each other._ _ _ _ _ _

______The curtains fly open then, and Gordie is there. He glances at her and Harry’s linked fingers curiously, but his happiness at seeing her awake seems to win out because he quickly makes his way to her side._ _ _ _ _ _

______He hugs her, checks her vitals, and replaces her IV, chatting all the while about absolutely nothing, refusing to answer most of her questions, and exchanging glances with Harry that tell her they’re definitely keeping something for her. Her brain is still too groggy to press them on it, though, so she makes a mental note to just worry about it later._ _ _ _ _ _

______And then Gordie is gone and she and Harry are alone._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry’s mouth trembles before pressing into a shaky line. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he breathes._ _ _ _ _ _

______She reaches for him without thinking, drawing him to her. He’s warm and familiar and for a minute she just breathes him in. It’s an awkward position and his head is somewhere near her bump, her fingers tangled in his hair. Normally, she hates having people near her stomach, touching the baby, but, considering Harry’s the one who put her there, she’ll let it slide._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry pulls back first, but not far. He’s still holding onto her like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Can I stay here tonight?” he asks. His voice is raw, his face oddly vulnerable. Every bit of the Harry she knew from school has been stripped away._ _ _ _ _ _

______She couldn’t say no to him if she tried._ _ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______ _ _ _ _

______Allie wakes up in the morning pressed against a warm chest. She shifts slightly, the top of her head brushing Harry’s chin. She’d started the night turned away from him, but she must have shifted in her sleep. They’re face-to-face, legs tangled, her foot resting on his ankle. One of his arms are wrapped around her, the other between them, his palm lying flat against her swollen stomach._ _ _ _ _ _

______Is it bad that she doesn’t want to move?_ _ _ _ _ _

______While she’s considering this, someone pulls the curtain back abruptly. She doesn’t get a chance to detangle herself from Harry before Grizz, Gordie, and Will are before her. She feels her face heat, especially when Will’s gaze sweeps over Harry’s arms wrapped tight around her. Grizz is doing a terrible job of hiding his shit-eating grin. Gordie looks equally exhausted and amused._ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry wakes up then, not nearly as weirded out by the situation as she is. He merely sits up, pulling his arms back. Beneath the covers, her leg is still trapped between his._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What’s up?” he asks Grizz, cutting straight to business. They’d all been by to see Allie last night (well not Will, but duh), so there must be an important reason for them all to be here again in the morning._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Look, Allie, there’s no easy way to say this. You didn’t get sick because of the pregnancy. You were poisoned.” Gordie looks pained, but Allie just nods. Last night, she'd remembered everything from before she woke up in the hospital. She’d known immediately that it wasn’t just morning sickness._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know,” she nods, steely-eyed. She looks around at all of them. “So. Do you know who did it?”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Grizz lowers his gaze, shaking his head. “No, and that’s why we’re here.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Gordie cuts in, “We think that Campbell’s supporters were behind it. There’s no telling how many of them there are, or who they are. And that means there’s no way to keep you safe.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Will speaks up then, refusing to meet her or Harry’s gaze. “We think that the best course of action now would be for you to leave town and return to the lake.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Harry gets to his feet, his voice incredulous, “But she won the trial – her banishment is over.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______“I know,” Grizz says firmly, “But right now, her life is in danger here. She’s safe at the lake so we think that’s where she should stay for now, at least until the baby is born and we have some more time to figure out who was behind the poisoning.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Allie finds herself nodding. She’d do anything if it meant protecting her baby. Harry looks to her, clearly still in the mood to argue, but something on her face stops him. He falters, then straightens, his mouth settling into a determined line._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Fine, she’ll go. But I’m coming with her.”_ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Harry and Allie alone in the woods. What could go wrong?
> 
> Please comment guys!! They really make my day and keep this fic going. Thanks to everyone who has so far, they've been so nice and made me really happy :))


	8. there's no way it's not going there, with the way that we're looking at each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allie and Harry turn a new leaf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you guys so much for all your nice comments on the last chapter and for leaving kudos on the story!! It turns out comments are the best motivation because I didn’t even have a plan for this chapter but somehow, I managed to get out nearly 7k words in one sitting. 
> 
> I gotta say I really liked writing this chapter. Angst is great but Soft! Hallie might actually be my favorite. If these two aren’t a thing in Season 2, I hope the writers at least make them friends. 
> 
> Lastly, before I let you get to it, I should mention that while Harry realized last chapter that he’s in love with Allie, he’s keeping it to himself for now. 
> 
> Chapter title is from There's No Way by Lauv ft. Julia Michaels.

Harry Bingham, as it turns out, is not the worst sort of roommate one could have. 

He moves in on the second of August, the hottest day of the year, bringing with him two suitcases and way too many baby supplies to fit inside her meager cabin. Allie had returned to the lake one day prior and she watches with raised eyebrows from her comfortable perch on the bed - strategically positioned directly in line of the draft coming in from the window - as he lugs in his bags and then several boxes of diapers, bottles, and other assorted childcare products. 

If she were slightly less pregnant and it was slightly less hot, she might have offered to help. Instead, she just sighs in annoyance as she watches the limited free space remaining in the cabin slowly become swallowed up.

“I thought we were only staying here until the baby was born,” she says crossly as he sets down the last pack of diapers, reaching up to wipe his damp forehead. He’s ruffled in an adorable sort of way, with messy hair and reddened cheeks – not that she’d ever tell him that – but still undeniably hot. 

She hates that he looks better than ever while she’s a sweaty mess with cankles who can barely see her toes anymore. 

“That’s the plan,” Harry tells her with an aura of nonchalance that she sees through easily, “Gordie just told me to bring all this stuff to be safe.” 

Gordie and Grizz had both been huge helps in the last couple of days, the former handling all her medical concerns while Grizz had reluctantly stepped up to become Lexie’s new co-mayor. 

“The baby isn’t due until the end of October. It’s the beginning of August.” She squints at him in the sunlight that suddenly floods the cabin, “Harry, they have no idea what they’re doing, do they?” 

He lets out a long sigh, blowing out his cheeks. “I told them you’d see right through us.” 

“Harry.” She sits up, crossing her legs on the bed.

“Okay, fine. We didn’t want to worry you because of the baby, but...they have no idea who was behind the poisoning. They’ve questioned a couple of guys who hung out with Dewey sometimes at school, but so far they’ve come up with nothing. And Campbell, of course, denies knowing anything.” His lip curls, “He sends his congratulations on the baby.” 

She shudders at the thought of Campbell finding out about her daughter. “What are we going to do about him anyway?” 

“Who?” Harry’s distracted by a carton of diapers that have fallen over. 

“Campbell.” Allie straightens, “I’m pretty sure we can’t keep him in Luke’s wine cellar forever.”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, tension returning to his shoulders once more at the mention of Campbell’s name. “We were planning on banishing him to the lake, but I don’t think either of us want him around. The other option...” 

“Is execution,” Allie finishes, her tone hard. 

Harry nods, looking away. 

Allie takes a moment to think about what it would be like: executing Campbell. She obviously can’t be involved this time thanks to the baby, so she expects The Guard would handle it on their own. Would Campbell plead for his life the way Dewey did?

Probably not, she thinks. He’s not capable of a human reaction like that. 

Admittedly, they would all probably feel safer without someone like Campbell walking around. But, in the long run, his death wouldn’t erase any of the damage he’d done, just like killing Dewey hadn’t eased any of the pain of Cassandra being gone. Elle would be living with those scars for the rest of her life. 

“Allie,” Harry cautions, his tone worried, “You shouldn’t think too hard about this stuff. The Guard will deal with it.” 

“What am I supposed to think about instead?” she feels irrationally frustrated all of a sudden, almost on the verge of tears. “How terrified I am about becoming a mom? Or about how hard it’s going to be to raise a kid without any adults around to help?” 

So far, she’s being shoving literally whatever she can find in front of the thought of the baby, using distraction after distraction as a coping mechanism for the fact that she’s about to have a kid when she’s still one herself. 

Not to mention the fact that she’s still living in this fucking forest. 

“Hey, hey,” Harry is front of her suddenly, a hand reaching out to touch her wrist. She’s taken back to the day she’d visited him in his bedroom after he stopped showing up to work, when their positions had been reversed. “It’s going to be okay, Allie.” 

“Is it?” she asks tearily, her mood having shifted so fast she’s giving herself whiplash. Mood swings were the number one thing she hated about being pregnant. “I mean, God, Harry, have you really thought about it yet? We’re having a kid – a real life screaming baby who’s going to need us to be her everything.” 

Something like panic crosses Harry’s face suddenly, but she watches as he quickly shelves it away, evidently recognizing that one of them has to keep it together right now. 

“I know it’s going to be...tough,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “But, come on, Allie. You singlehandedly created a fully functioning society out of 250 angry and confused teenagers. You can handle a baby.” 

She knows that his words are just a band-aid to cover the gaping wound of worry and fear that’ll sure crop back up at night when she’s alone with her thoughts, but right now, she doesn’t care. 

Leaning into Harry’s touch, she allows herself to forget, just for five minutes. 

He holds her tight, her shelter against the oncoming storm. 

In moments like these, she thinks maybe that other world has come true. 

In others, she thinks it’s never been further away. 

One such occasion comes on Harry’s second week at the cabin. He’s been sleeping on the floor so far, mostly without complaint because even he’s not entitled enough to make the pregnant girl give up her bed. Unfortunately for her, that means that she has to stumble around in the dark whenever she has to pee in the middle of the night, trying not to step on his face. 

Usually, she’s successful. On this particular night, however, her foot happens to land right on his left arm. 

“Ow,” he wakes up with a groan, his irritated expression clearly visible in the moonlight streaming through the window. “Allie, what the hell?” 

“I have to pee,” she snaps back angrily, “Could you, like, not sleep stretched out all the way across the floor?” 

His eyes narrow into slits. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Is my sleeping on the floor too much of a disturbance to Her Royal Highness? I could sleep out in the wilderness instead – at least I’d be able to get away from your snoring.” 

Her mouth opens in an incredulous gasp, her need to pee vanishing as it’s replaced by pure fury. “You asshole,” she hisses. “I do not snore.” 

“Do too,” he says smugly, “You sound just like the grizzly bear I saw sleeping on that zoo trip in AP Bio last year.” 

She’s too angry to reply. Instead, she storms out and towards the bushes near the edge of the forest, all the while muttering about how of all the guys in New Ham, she had to get stuck with the biggest douchebag as the father of her baby. 

Nighttime squabbles and near panic attacks aside, living with Harry is almost...peaceful. 

They quickly settle into a routine once summer draws to a close and the days start to get shorter. Allie will always wake up first, mostly due to the baby doing somersaults off the surface of her uterus, and then go put on tea in the electric kettle Harry had brought with him. 

She’d once told him it was the only plus side to him living at the cottage now. She hopes it had only been mock-offense in his tone when he’d replied, “You’re no picnic either, Pressman.” 

Harry will usually wake up around ten, grumbling about how much the floor hurts his back. His first stop is the makeshift outhouse they’d created behind the cottage, then to wherever she is. They’ll usually eat breakfast in a comfortable silence, Harry not yet fully awake and Allie enjoying the momentary peace before he opens his mouth and inevitably says something that’ll piss her off. 

Their arguments, she thinks one night while listening to him breathe heavily in his sleep, are mostly in jest now. She thinks they might actually even enjoy them. 

After breakfast, Harry will set out to do whatever chores she’s ascribed to him. Allie’s pregnant, not invalid, so she still has her own list of tasks to keep her busy throughout the day – like organizing baby supplies, knitting blankets and bibs, cooking, and keeping the cottage clean-ish (to be honest, neither of them are particularly neat people). Obviously, she assigns the more heavy-lifting work like farming and building a changing table to Harry. And naturally, he complains. 

If there’s one thing about the Harry Bingham of before all of this that still remains, it’s his privilege. 

To this day, he’s probably never worked a day in his life. No, there were certainly no summer jobs or baby-sitting gigs for the son of the town mayor and the richest real-estate developer in all of Connecticut. That sense of entitlement and sheltered attitude still linger in this new world, and she gets to witness that firsthand when she asks him to plant a new row of tomato plants, so they’ll have something to feed themselves when fall hits. 

Harry makes trips to town to get them groceries, but they’re infrequent. They still need to do some of the providing themselves. 

First, Harry goes about planting by trying to waste as much time as possible. He plays on his phone, kicks at some rocks. Allie watches from the sidelines, enjoying herself immensely. Finally, around an hour in, he picks up a shovel. His first try to get it into the ground is wildly unsuccessful, piercing the soil only about two inches in. 

“Need some help?” she calls out lazily. 

He flips her off. 

Eventually, he does get it – though it takes him significantly longer than it had taken Allie on her first try (she used to help her mom garden in the spring and summer), and she gleefully points this out to him when he comes in for dinner, sweaty and dirt-stained. 

“Yeah, well, I never learned this stuff,” he huffs, and she realizes suddenly that he’s embarrassed. In this life, his wealth and status don’t make him cool – they make him weak. And he’s ashamed. 

“It’s okay,” she brushes it off, “I was just kidding. It took me a while to get the hang of it, too.” 

He nods but is clearly still uncomfortable. “Harry,” she reaches out, not sure why she suddenly cares so much about his feelings, and places a hand on his cheek. He looks at her, and whatever words of comfort she’d been about to say suddenly die on her tongue. 

“Uh,” she clears her throat, and then swipes her thumb along his cheekbone, “You had some dirt on your face.” 

She moves her hand behind her back swiftly before he can see that her fingers are clean. 

“Okay,” he nods with a light smile playing across his lips, “I guess I’ll go wash up before we eat then.” 

When he’s gone, she leans against the wall, letting out a long sigh. What happened between her and Harry before her poisoning still lingers in the air between them, never addressed and creating an odd tension that crops up at annoyingly inconvenient times. On those all too frequent nights when she can’t sleep, her brain will inevitably flash to the memory of her fingers curling in Harry’s hair, her back arching off of the mattress as he _finally _put his mouth to good use.__

__Sometimes, when it happens, she wonders what would happen if she woke him up and let him know exactly what was on her mind. In the morning, however, she’s always immensely grateful that her common sense had trumped her hormones and kept her firmly in her own bed. Getting involved with Harry again would be...dangerous. They need to be able to co-parent peacefully, and she has to think about what the potential ramifications of them getting together only to break up would be for their baby._ _

__But, if she’s being honest, what she’s really trying to protect is her heart._ _

__

__

__Allie turns eighteen on September 5th._ _

__Birthdays aren’t really much of a big deal anymore, seemingly trivial amongst all the other shit they’re dealing with. Last year, she’d celebrated with Sam, Becca, Grizz, Gordie, Bean, and Will by bringing their rations of Kraft macaroni and cheese back to the house and singing happy birthday. She has even lower expectations for this year, considering who her only source of human contact is these days. Still, she can’t help but feel thrilled that she’s eighteen now – she may feel woefully unprepared but it’s slightly comforting that she’ll at least be a legal adult before she has a baby._ _

__If she were back in West Ham, she would probably have woken up to the smell of fresh pancakes. Red velvet – her favorite – with ‘Happy Birthday, Al!’ written across the top in cream cheese frosting. When she'd have gone downstairs, the kitchen would have been decorated with balloons and the old Happy Birthday banner her family has been recycling for years. Her mother would start singing the moment she entered the room, Cassandra and her father quickly joining in, the former smiling from ear to ear while her dad kept his voice purposely low to disguise his certifiably awful pitch. Afterwards, her father would walk over and give her a tight hug, wishing her a happy birthday and telling her how proud he was of her._ _

__She’d blush, always the worst at taking compliments, but would secretly be pleased to finally be the center of attention – even if it was just for a day._ _

__Allie’s smile fades as reality returns in a sobering tidal wave: Cassandra is dead, and she’ll probably never see her parents again. Her throat feeling tight all of a sudden, she throws off her blanket and climbs out of bed. Surprisingly, Harry – who’d returned mysteriously late from a visit to New Ham last night – is already up and out._ _

__Shivering in the cool morning air, Allie steps outside in her pajamas, making her way to the outhouse. What she sees by the lake stops her in her tracks._ _

__Harry is standing on a red and white gingham picnic blanket by the water, an assortment of foods surrounding him. When he spots her frozen midway to the outhouse, he breaks into a brilliant smile._ _

__“Happy Birthday, Pressman!” he shouts across the short distance. “Get your ass over here.”_ _

__Feeling like she’s living in a dream, Allie slowly pads over to where he’s standing, surveying the picnic blanket. To her shock, there’s every food she’s been craving for the last month: pickles, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, Goldfish crackers, mac and cheese, and her favorite strawberry jam with two slices of toast. At the center of it all, of course, is a chocolate cake with happy birthday written across the top in messy pink frosting._ _

__Allie feels tears well up in her eyes._ _

__At the sight of her face, Harry’s expression quickly shifts from enthusiastic – and okay, maybe a little smug too – to horror. “Oh no – what did I do wrong?” he asks, and there’s real panic in his voice._ _

__She shakes her head, reaching up to wipe at the tears that have escaped and are now trickling down her cheek. “Nothing. It’s just – no one has ever done anything like this for me before.”_ _

__Harry shoves his hand into his pockets, his cheeks flushing pink. “With everything you’ve been through lately, I feel like you deserved something nice for a change. And really, it was no big deal. Gordie and Grizz helped me out.”_ _

__She smiles at his attempt to brush it off, and at his obvious embarrassment. “Still,” she reaches out, squeezing his arm, “Thank you, Harry. It was really nice of you to do this.”_ _

__They’re quiet for a moment as she stares at him and he stares at her. Finally, she breaks the silence by turning towards the food, “So, are we going to eat or what?”_ _

__

__

__“Please tell me you didn’t actually do that!” Allie chokes out a laugh around the bite of cake currently in her mouth, turning to the boy next to her with an incredulous look on her face._ _

__“Hand to God,” Harry says smugly. “I think they gave me, like, a lifetime ban from that place.”_ _

__“Wow, even back then you were such a troublemaker,” she teases gently and Harry mock-bows. They’re exchanging birthday horror stories and so far, he has yet to top when she got her period for the first time during her twelfth birthday party, in front of half the eighth-grade class._ _

__Mini golfing would never be the same again._ _

__Still, the time he got bored during his eighth birthday and put a fake frog from the goodie-bags in one of the mom’s soups – resulting in the restaurant staff needing to call an ambulance after she passed out - gives her a run for her money._ _

__They fall silent then, but it’s a comfortable sort of quiet as they just lie there, listening to one another breathe. Admittedly, it’s been one of the best days Allie has had in a while. After their breakfast feast, Allie had been too stuffed for cake, so they’d put it aside for after dinner. However, Harry had deemed that the birthday festivities needed to continue throughout the day too, and so he’d roped her into abandoning work for the day to play games like Pin the Tail on the Donkey, Truth or Dare, and Never Have I Ever. She’d especially enjoyed that one – who knew that Harry Bingham, the formerly fearless king of West Ham, had never even ridden on a roller coaster?_ _

__Allie doesn’t know what Harry’s endgame is with this whole birthday extravaganza – she suspects at least part of it is wanting to get out of chores for a day – but it makes her feel weirdly warm inside._ _

__“Hey, how did you know it was my birthday anyway?” she asks suddenly, breaking the silence. It’s a question that’s been plaguing her all day – without Facebook and Snapchat sending reminders, she doubts even her friends would remember the date._ _

__Harry shrugs, “I don’t know, I have this memory of going to a birthday party of one of yours, back when our moms were friends. I remembered it was in early fall, so I asked Gordie.”_ _

__“You didn’t have to do that,” her voice is soft._ _

__“Yes, I did,” he says, not looking at her, barely audible._ _

__She wants to press him on what he means, but she can tell by the closed off set of his shoulders that that’s probably not a good idea. Instead, she asks, “When’s yours anyway?”_ _

__“November 1st,” he answers matter-of-factly, brushing a few stray crumbs from dinner off of his jeans. They’re on the picnic blanket, lying flat on their backs as they stare up at the sky. It had been Harry’s idea to come out here – he’d claimed he could point out all the constellations. It had taken her approximately thirty seconds to deduce that A) the sky was too dark to make out much of anything and B) Harry was full of shit. She’d been too tired to move, though, so they’re still lying side by side on the small blanket, shoulders barely brushing. The dampness of the grass is seeping through to her jeans and her back is starting to ache, but something at the very core of her resists getting up, moving away from Harry._ _

__She tells herself it’s just because she’s cold and he runs warm._ _

__“It’s coming up then,” she says. “I should start planning now.”_ _

__“That’s not necessary,” he says quickly, half sitting-up._ _

__“Of course it is,” she replies easily. “I gotta show you up, Bingham.”_ _

__He doesn’t say anything back, but she feels him smile as he slowly lies back down. “Everything’s a competition with you, isn’t it, Pressman?” he asks eventually, his breath stirring her hair._ _

__“You should know that by now, Harry,” she says, but she’s smiling too. It’s all she’s been able to do today. Feeling like a dork suddenly, she changes the subject: “So you were like the oldest in your grade, weren't you?”_ _

__“Yeah,” he says sheepishly, “My mom wanted to keep me home another year, so she decided to put me in school late.”_ _

__“Aww, that’s sweet. I didn’t know you were a mama’s boy.”_ _

__“Shut up,” he says half-heartedly, swatting at her hair gently. His smile fades. “My parents, uh, had a couple of miscarriages before me. After, too. That’s why Sam was so much younger. They were really attached to me when I was a kid because of it.”_ _

__She closes her eyes, thinking back to what she remembers of Harry’s parents. His mom had been nothing like him: all cool composure, pin straight blonde hair, ice blue eyes. His dad, though, he’d actually seemed like a nice man. As handsome as Harry, but with an easier smile and more light in his eyes. Once, he’d given Allie and Cassandra a ride home from school in elementary school after they missed the bus, ignoring Harry crowing about how they had cooties in the back seat._ _

__“I remember your dad,” she says softly. “He seemed like a really good guy.”_ _

__“He was.” Harry’s voice is tight. “He was the best person I’ve ever known. I didn’t get that gene, obviously.” His tone takes on a bitter note, filled with pain._ _

__She shifts nearer to him on the blanket. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Harry Bingham.” Leaning close, her hair tickling his neck, she presses her lips gently to his cheek._ _

__His head rears forward, “What was that for?”_ _

__“I wanted to say thank-you, for today.”_ _

__“You already did,” he says automatically, sounding a little bit dazed. She smiles._ _

__“Well, I wanted you to know I really meant it.” She stands then, a little more unsteady than she would have liked._ _

__Starting in the direction of the cabin, she looks over shoulder at the blanket, to where Harry’s still stretched out on his back, unmoving. “Hurry up, Bingham. There are dinner dishes calling your name.”_ _

__His groan echoes through the night._ _

__

__

__Gordie arrives the next day for her checkup. She’s in the cabin working on her second blanket when the door suddenly opens, and he steps inside._ _

__Only he’s not alone._ _

__Will is standing at his side, hands shoved into his pockets, looking down at his feet. For some reason, Allie’s first instinct is to cast a glance out the window to where Harry’s tending to their tomato plants, his back to the cabin._ _

__“Um, hi,” she squeaks out._ _

__“Allie,” Will says, clearing his throat. “Can we talk?” Behind him, Gordie gives her an encouraging smile._ _

__“Sure,” she nods, wondering why she’s suddenly dreading this conversation, when all she’d wanted two months ago was for him to just give her five minutes. “Let’s go outside.”_ _

__

__

__“Will,” she starts at the exact same time he says, “Allie -”_ _

__Breaking off, they both look at each other and laugh nervously. “You go first,” she says, standing back and folding her arms. She’d left Gordie to unpack some of the supplies he’d brought while she and Will talk just outside the front door. She just hopes those tomato plants keep Harry occupied for at least the next ten minutes. He and Will have never been fans of each other – for obvious reasons – and the last thing she needs today is for them to get into it._ _

__“I’m sorry,” Will says simply. “I should never have said those things to you, no matter how upset I was. I didn’t mean them – I just wanted to hurt you.”_ _

__“I get it,” she faces him finally. “You had a right to be angry, Will. I cheated on you.” Just the word leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. Looking away from his betrayed eyes, she heaves a loud sigh. “I can’t even really tell you why I did it. I mean, you’re my best friend. The last thing I would ever want is to hurt you. I was just...scared and desperate.”_ _

__But that doesn’t feel right, either, reducing what she has with Harry to just fear and desperation. He’s not just a warm body when she’s in need of solace, at least not anymore._ _

__Not that she can tell Will that._ _

__“I can understand that,” Will winces, “I think the reason I got especially mad was because it’s him. I mean, come on, Harry?”_ _

__“You don’t know him,” she says immediately, without thinking. Will’s eyebrows shoot up._ _

__“And you do?”_ _

__“I think so,” she tells him seriously. “I know you don’t want to believe it, but he’s changed. He’s not the same self-absorbed, arrogant asshole he was at the beginning of all of this. He helped me with the trial and after, too. And he’s actually been really considerate while he’s been up here. Harry’s...complicated. But I believe he’s a good guy, or at least that he has the potential to be one.”_ _

__Will still looks unconvinced, and like he’s about to pick another argument, so she quickly interjects, “How about we just don’t talk about Harry? We’ve been best friends for six years, Will. We’re not gonna let some guy get between us.”_ _

__At that, her friend’s shoulders relax slightly, and he gives a begrudging nod. “I still don’t like him, but I guess you’re right. I’m not gonna let him fuck up our friendship. You’re too important to me.”_ _

__Something goes soft inside her then, and she’s reminded of all the afternoons she’s spent with Will – playing on her trampoline after school, doing homework at her kitchen table, lifeguarding together at the community center during the summer, grabbing milkshakes at the diner after school._ _

__He’s her oldest friend here. She doesn’t want to lose him._ _

__And so, just like that, the awkwardness evaporates. Allie and Will fall into conversation, momentarily forgetting about Gordie waiting just inside and completely missing the pair of eyes boring into them from just a few feet away._ _

__

__

__Harry is uncharacteristically quiet during dinner. Even when she tries to start a conversation about what Gordie had told her about the baby – everything seems healthy, thankfully – he only grunts and stabs his fork harder into his fish._ _

__“Okay, what the hell is up with you?” she finally demands after fifteen minutes of feeling like she’s talking to a brick wall._ _

__“Nothing,” he spits out, not lifting his eyes from his plate._ _

__She grabs his arm. “That’s bullshit, Harry. Talk to me.”_ _

__“Are you sure? Aren’t you all tired out from catching up with your bestie Will today? Or is it boyfriend again?” His jaw grinds as he speaks._ _

__She gapes at him for a moment. She’s never seen Harry jealous – well, at least not on her behalf – and she’s not sure how to deal with it. Especially since it’s so out of left field._ _

__“Harry,” she says firmly, “Will and I are not together. Nor will we ever be again.”_ _

__“You sure he knows that? He seemed pretty into you today. And I’m sure he had something to say about us having a baby together.”_ _

__“I don’t care about his opinion about you.” When he doesn’t respond, she sighs. “Harry. Look at me.”_ _

__Finally, he does. He looks angry and, strangely, scared, too._ _

__“I’m not interested in Will, I promise. And he doesn’t get a say about the baby. That’s between you and me.”_ _

__Harry seems to relax then, and they start talking about Gordie’s checkup, but she can’t help but notice that the fear in his eyes still lingers._ _

__He’s clearly dealing with something else._ _

__Whatever it is, she hopes he’ll tell her when he’s ready._ _

__

__

__As autumn settles in, she and Harry develop a new favorite activity._ _

__When Gordie came up to see them, one of the things he’d brought with him was an old baby name book he’d found in the library. Allie had started flipping through it absent-mindedly one day when she was bored, but her interest had sparked quickly._ _

__It’s nice to have an aspect of the baby to focus on that’s not terrifying. A name, she can do. Nightly feedings, diaper changes, health complications, and labor not so much._ _

__Harry got into it as well, and eventually they came up with a system. Once a week, they go into the book and each pick a name, which they write down on a white slip of paper. Then, they evaluate each other’s picks. If the name is to both of their likings, they toss it into a little bowl that Allie had emptied out. If one of them hates it, it goes in the trash. At this rate, they’ll have around six or seven names to choose from by the time the baby is supposed to come – the last week of October, according to Gordie. They’ll narrow it down to one once she’s here._ _

__Harry will usually sit next to her in bed as he flips through the book, but he always keeps the pages hidden – regardless of her attempts to wrestle it away from him. As of October first, his choices have been Chloe, Samantha, and Emily._ _

__“Those are such cookie-cutter names,” she’d told him when he’d handed her his picks. He’d made a face but hadn’t been too offended. She’d let him keep Samantha, though, because she knows – even though he’ll never say it out loud – how much he misses his little sister._ _

__Her choices are a little more out of the box, mostly inspired by her love of fairy-tales. Harry had laughed out loud at Snow, stifled a grin at Aurora, and begrudgingly allowed her to keep Belle._ _

__She doesn’t know if they’re even going to use one of these names for the baby, but she likes their little routine._ _

__(She likes Harry, too, but she’ll never admit it)._ _

__

__

__One night in mid-October, Allie wakes up to the sound of teeth chattering. For a minute, she thinks a wild animal has wandered into their cabin for refuge and she’s about to wake Harry up to go make him chase it outside when she realizes that the noise is, in fact, Harry himself._ _

__“Harry?” she whispers into the darkness, “Are you okay?”_ _

__His breathing comes in short puffs, “C-cold.”_ _

__She rolls her eyes. Leaning down, she grasps the fabric of his shirt, hauling him up._ _

__“W-what are you doing?”_ _

__“Getting you in bed,” she says simply, moving away from the side to allow him to scoot in._ _

__“Are you sure?”_ _

__“I’m not gonna let you freeze your ass off, no matter how annoying you are.” She doesn’t think about it before reaching for him after he settles in next to her and stifles a laugh as he jolts at her touch. Carefully, she slides her arms around his middle and then rests her head on his chest. Her bump is nestled between them, and Harry slides his hand down to rest against it, their daughter kicking against his palm. “Now shut up, Bingham. Some of us are trying to sleep here.”_ _

__She feels him smile against her hair._ _

__

__

__Surprisingly, Harry likes to read._ _

__Actually, this shouldn’t have been too much of a shock considering he was the salutatorian of his grade (Cassandra was valedictorian, of course), but Allie still can’t help but feel astonished the first time he pulls a book out of his bag._ _

__“Did you think I was illiterate or something?” Harry grumbles when she voices her surprise to him, “I’m offended you think so little of me, Pressman.”_ _

__“To be fair, all you ever seemed to do in high school was party, fight with Cassandra, and make out with Kelly,” she shoots back, then falls silent, watching from for a few minutes._ _

__Finally, she asks, “Do you have anything for me?”_ _

__And so, another tradition is born._ _

__Every time Harry goes to New Ham, he brings her back books from the library. Some are classics, like Catcher in the Rye or Lord of the Flies (her favorite so far), while others are scarier, like It by Stephen King. She starts to think he brings her those on purpose, because sometimes when she’s reading a particularly gory part she’ll reach out for him._ _

__He always smirks when she does it, clearly enjoying playing the part of knight in shining armor._ _

__She wonders what someone would say if they wandered into their cabin on a typical Thursday afternoon to find Harry propped up on the bed, his nose in a book as his hand plays with her hair, with Allie’s legs splayed across his lap as she reads._ _

__Somedays, she can hardly believe it herself._ _

__

__

__As the end of October approaches, Harry discreetly starts to get concerned. It’s little things at first, like remarking on how her due date is approaching every day and increasing the pace of readying the cabin for a baby. So far, they have a crib, two blankets, clothes courtesy of Becca sent via Gordie, diapers, and bottles. She thinks it’s enough, but Harry keeps insisting they need to do more._ _

__Then, it progresses to constantly asking her how she’s feeling. She’d thought it was sweet at first but, now, when the question comes practically every twenty minutes, she’s closer to tearing his head off._ _

__“Harry,” she tells him pleadingly one night when he’s attempting to baby-proof the cabin by clearing some of the clutter, “I was born two weeks after my due date and Cassandra was almost three. Pressman babies come late. We have plenty of time.”_ _

__He doesn’t look convinced, but he does relax enough to allow her to make him a birthday dinner when he turns twenty. She doesn’t end up showing him up – it doesn’t help that she’s nine months pregnant and has to rely on him to bring her all the decorations, as well as pick up the cake she’d texted Grizz about making– but she still thinks it’s a nice day. The cake is Halloween themed, with a cute little ghost and cobwebs at the corners. They’re celebrating the night of the 31st so she can be the first to wish him happy birthday at midnight._ _

__“No one else probably even remembers,” he mumbles, but she can tell from the pink at his ears that he’s pleased she cares so much._ _

__She doesn’t even know why she does._ _

__As it turns out, waiting until midnight is a harder endeavor than she’d thought. The baby wipes her out so much that she’s asleep at ten every day, and Harry has started following suit. To keep themselves occupied and awake, she suggests playing a game._ _

__In truth, the game is also a welcome distraction from the fact that she’s kinda maybe sort of started having contractions. She’s not sure – it’s just a weird spastic wave of pain low in her abdomen every couple of minutes – and even if they are contractions, she knows that they’re probably Braxton hicks. Her mom had told them that she’d gotten them with both her and Cassandra._ _

__Never Have I Ever stopped being entertaining the first couple of times they played with soda, so she suggests Truth or Dare instead. Harry doesn’t really deny her much of anything these days so, of course, he acquiesces._ _

__They go easy first, keeping the dares as simple as staying outside in the cold for two straight minutes without a jacket and the truths as basic as first kisses._ _

__His was, funnily enough, Lexie Pemberton. He glares at her when she bursts out laughing – “It was the fifth grade!”_ _

__Hers was a boy who moved away back in middle school, but Harry still scowls when she brings it up._ _

__“First person you had sex with?” she asks flippantly when he picks truth for the second time in a row. It’s around eleven p.m. now._ _

__“Kelly,” he says easily, because they’d both already known the answer. The whole school had known they did it for the first time in her parents’ basement their freshman year._ _

__She still doesn’t like the reminder._ _

__She goes next and Harry gives her an easy truth – something about if she’d ever cheated on a test. She’s not Cassandra so well, yeah. Harry doesn’t judge her though, he just gives her an amused look and tells her he’s guilty as well._ _

__“AP Calc junior year,” he admits sheepishly, “Not my finest moment.”_ _

__“Hey, mine was in the seventh grade! That barely counts,” she says with a laugh and he rolls his eyes – “yeah, yeah.”_ _

__“Alright, truth or dare?” she asks him next, settling back against the pillows._ _

__“Truth,” he says again, probably because his nose is still adorably red from when she’d made him go outside for a dare four turns earlier._ _

__“Hm,” she leans back, considering her options. Finally, she goes with a question that’s been bouncing around her brain for over a year now, “Why did you sleep with me the night of Fugitive?”_ _

__He winces, clearly caught off guard. “I won’t lie to you...some of it was about Kelly and Will.”_ _

__She glances away – she’d expected as much, but it still creates a hollow ache in the pit of her stomach. For her, it had been about Will and Cassandra and needing a distraction, but it had meant something else too. She doesn’t think she would have lost her virginity to just anyone._ _

__“The other part,” he says softly, and some magnetic pull drags her gaze back to his, “Was because I saw you – really saw you – for the first time. I realized that you were gorgeous, funny, and a little bit crazy. In a good way. After that, the choice was easy.”_ _

__The air around them suddenly feels charged. She’s hyperaware of how close together they are sitting on the bed, her knee brushing his thigh, his hand millimeters away from his on the blanket. Her mouth feels too dry to respond. Luckily, Harry speaks up for her._ _

__“Truth or dare, Pressman?” he asks lazily, his eyes gleaming in the dim light._ _

__Feeling adventurous – and terrified of what he might ask her - she declares, “Dare.” Her stomach cramps and she grimaces, trying to keep her expression neutral. Harry’s not looking at her anyway, his eyes darting all around the cabin as he searches for an acceptable dare. Suddenly, his gaze flits to her face, dropping to her lips._ _

__She knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth: “Kiss me.”_ _

__She considers this: the baby is due any day now, and this will only make things more complicated in the long run. On the other hand, she doesn’t think there’s anything she’s ever wanted to do more in her life._ _

__Leaning forward, Harry’s hands coming to cup her arms, she presses her mouth to his. It’s gentle at first, experimental, like they’re just getting used to each other again. And then he parts her lips with his own, his tongue slipping inside. Suddenly, it feels like she’s on fire, urgency rippling through her as she shifts closer to him, dragging her nails through his hair. It’s a kiss that somehow feels like it could be the first, or the hundredth. She’s conscious of nothing besides the gentle pressure of his lips against hers and the warmth of his fingers as they trace a path down her spine._ _

__And then, just like that, a splash of water douses the flame._ _

__Literally._ _

__Harry glances at her confusedly as she pulls back, his hair mussed and his mouth a little red. “What’s wrong?”_ _

__She glances down at the splotch on the bed below her, getting wider by the second._ _

__“I think my water just broke.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, cliffhanger.
> 
> Up Next: Oh, baby. 
> 
> Also, I’m sorry for the long author’s notes this chapter but I want to give you guys a general outline for this story going forward (only three chapters left!) and also ask a couple of questions. 
> 
> So, it's pretty obvious what the next chapter will be. Chapter 10 will be the big finale, and as of right now, chapter 11 is looking like it’s going to be a ginormous epilogue. 
> 
> The questions I have for you guys are: 
> 
> 1) Any baby name ideas? Not actually going to use any of the ones they suggested in this chapter. I do have one in mind though, and I’m planning on making Cassandra the middle name 
> 
> 2) Do you guys want to see what happens to Campbell and Lexie, or is it okay if I just deal with it off-screen and explain it? 
> 
> 3) This story is going to be wrapped up within the next couple of days, so I’m looking to write something new. Definitely Hallie. Does anyone have any ideas? I could also do a series of prompts. 
> 
> Thanks for bearing with me through that long chapter and my annoying rambling at the beginning and end! I hope you enjoyed, and I’ll try to get the next chapter up by Monday!! Please comment, they really are the best motivation :))


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